


Doughnut Rebel

by salesman



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Donuts, F/M, Fluff, I think?, Light Angst, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4395683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salesman/pseuds/salesman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new donut shop has opened across from Ellana Lavellan's apartment. She knows she shouldn't eat there. Or make googly eyes at the owner. But the heart wants what it wants, and this one wants some donuts.</p>
<p>A modern Solavellan AU about love... and donuts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ellana knew the minute she stepped into the shop, it was the worst mistake of her life. The smell hit her nose like a bang, a sweet mixture of bready confectionery and baked cinnamon. _I will never leave this place..._ she mourned.

The donut shop had only recently opened, and Ellana had _tried_ to avoid it for as long as possible. She stayed away for two weeks, which was commendable, given the fact that she could see its painted façade from her bedroom window. Every day, she had shamelessly stared as the employees prepared for opening. They would brew coffee and bring out trays among endless trays of fried doughy goodness. _One day_ , she would sigh.

The day _did_ come, and that day was today. Doughnut Rebel was the name of the place, and Ellana thought the title sounded a little pretentious. _Please_ , she scoffed. _What could be “rebellious” about donuts?_

There was a bell on the door that chimed when she entered. _Uh-oh_. Definitely no turning back, now that the employees were alerted. The place was small enough, too, really only the size of her kitchen (which was _tiny_ ). The only notable features were a mirrored menu (yes, someone had actually hand-lettered donut flavors onto a mirror) and a handsome, smiling cashier.

“Hello!” he greeted, a charming smile on his lips. The man seemed quite well-manicured, Ellana noticed, as his hair and mustache were expertly styled. His tanned skin stood out even stronger against the crisp, white button-up he wore, and Ellana cringed as she surveyed his suspenders. _Oh no_ , she worried. _This is a hipster place_. Doughnut Rebel. She should have known!

She had nothing against trendy locales, but the idea that every wannabe-coolster in her (somewhat modest, somewhat young) neighborhood would be flocking to this shop made her want to march out the door. She could practically hear the sympathetic “progressives” telling the poor, ignorant Dalish elf all about the wonders of independent bakeries. They would warn her of the horrors of mass consumerism, the plight of the Copper Menu... No, she was not in the mood for _those_ types of encounters. Not today, not ever.

At least she was the only one in the store, though, since it was early on a weekday. Ellana was lucky enough to have flexible working hours, and strolling into the office mid-morning was never questioned.

She had thought to be generous today, bringing in the dough ( _fried_ dough, specifically). But as her eyes flitted over the flavors, a pit of uncertainty sunk into her stomach. _I don’t know about this..._

Salted Caramel Elfroot? Cinnamon Rashvine? Embrium Chocolate? It was like every flavor had a weird plant ingredient thrown in. Why would she want a donut with plants in it?!

As Ellana attempted to sneak away through the exit, the cashier called to her, “How may I help you?” and she was stuck between telling him that she changed her mind or actually ordering something. He stood behind a counter, blinking patiently at her, yet somehow also reminding her of a caged animal. The space was miniscule and barely allowed a turn-around. The man seemed cramped among the large coffee canisters and metal rack of donuts beside him. Where was the kitchen? Where was the _door_?

“I, uh... Well, um...” she stuttered. It was too late. She already felt the guilt tingling in her chest from the notion of leaving. This place was small, possibly family-owned, and brand-spanking new. Ellana had no idea how much business they got. Perhaps her presence had brightened their otherwise grim-looking future. She was the only person in the shop, and this came with an unspoken obligation to pity-purchase at least _one_ item.

“What do you recommend?” she finally asked, and her voice sounded hesitant and defeated.

The man quirked another smile and flourished his hand to the trays beside him. It was unusual to see donuts displayed this way. Usually, they were behind a glass case, upfront and centered for all the world to drool over. But in Doughnut Rebel, they were _behind_ the stone counter and nearly out of view. _How bold_ , she thought. Most donut-appeal was from their appearance, after all.

“These are the finest donuts in all of Haven, I assure you,” he proclaimed. “Every flavor is just as equally enchanting.”

Ellana tried to smile to hide her annoyance, since his answer was not helpful at all. She fidgeted where she stood and craned her neck around the counter to examine the various colors of frosted doughs. _I just need to choose one and get out of here..._

“Tell her your favorite flavor, Dorian,” a man’s smooth voice suggested, although Ellana had no idea where it came from.

The cashier (Dorian, it seemed), gave a sigh and the slightest of eye-rolls. He turned towards the trays and muttered through them, “Will you let me do the selling for once? I thought we had both agreed _I_ was better with customers.”

The voice said nothing, but at least Ellana now knew that the cashier wasn’t actually trapped behind the counter. There _was_ another room through those stacks of trays. She wasn’t quite sure what Dorian’s donut-pitch would have been (if such a thing even existed), but she did agree with the mysterious voice. “Well... what _is_ your favorite flavor?” she mumbled.

The hidden voice chuckled, and it tinted Ellana’s cheeks with embarrassment.

Dorian gave a strained smile. “It is a difficult choice,” he said through clenched teeth. “The Honeyed Vandal Aria is certainly a delectable one. I would highly recommend it.”

Ellana nodded, unsure of what to think about yet _another_ herb-infused donut.

“Spindleweed Crunch is also very popular,” the other voice offered.

Dorian made no effort to hide his annoyance when he very audibly exhaled this time. He leaned closer towards the unknown voice behind the rack. “Why did you even hire me if you are only going to chatter incessantly from the oven? Do you want me to be out here or not?” he grumbled between trays.

The voice laughed. “I only interfere when your ego is too excessive to remember your tasks.”

Dorian made an indignant noise. “Look, you are scaring her away!” he exclaimed, motioning an emphatic hand towards Ellana. “Now, be quiet and let _me_ do the talking.”

“All the world could not keep _you_ quiet, Dorian,” the man’s voice smirked.

Dorian rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to argue once more, but Ellana interrupted him.

“You know what? I’ll just take one of each flavor, thanks!” she declared, the need to leave this crazy pair growing stronger by the second. No wonder there was no one else here...

The man smiled as he placed each confection into a pretty pink box, a Doughnut Rebel logo pre-stamped on its top. “That will be thirty sovereigns, please,” he chimed.

Ellana couldn’t pull the notes out fast enough, and soon, she was out the door with said box in hand. The regret was instantaneous as she realized she had not only purchased _one_ gross-sounding donut, but _eight_ of them.

At least she would not have to ever see those bickering employees again.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, _who_ makes these donuts?!” Ellana demanded as she barged in through that ringing door the next day.

Dorian looked startled as he took in the elf. “The owner is the mastermind, although I also contribute to the preparation,” he answered with wide eyes.

She slammed her palms on the counter and leaned in towards the cashier. “ _These are the most amazing donuts I have ever tasted!_ ” she blurted, staring into the man’s eyes like a wild halla.

“Th-thank you,” he said. He looked almost alarmed, but there was a little proud smile that played on his lips.

“I just never thought donuts with herbs could taste so _good_ ,” Ellana cooed. She relived the taste of each one in her mind, biting her lower lip in the process. “Such unique flavors... and _rich_ , but not too heavy... They’re like fine delicacies!”

Dorian smiled a little larger and crossed his arms with smug delight. “Unfortunately, I cannot take all the credit for these inventions. If you are to thank anyone, it should be the owner. Solas, why don’t you come out?”

“I heard everything she said, so it is unnecessary for her to thank me again,” the hidden voice answered.

“Oh, nonsense!” Dorian disputed with a wave of his hand. “You are like a ghost back there. Just come out already!”

Ellana heard a sigh from behind the shelves of donuts, but soon another noise, like the sound of a door opening. A person stepped into the shop shortly after, ringing the doorbell again. She turned to the sound and saw a tall man with no hair and a distinctive cleft chin. He was an elf, too, just like Ellana (although _not_ Dalish, she noted), and tall for one as well.

“My name is Solas,” he introduced with a small nod. “I am the owner here.”

 _He’s the owner?_ Ellana wondered. He wasn’t what she had expected. Someone dapper like Dorian, perhaps, but not the upright, stiff-looking man in the green turtleneck and apron. She also now knew that there was, in fact, _no_ door connecting the storefront to the kitchen. The man must have gone around the building to get here. It was a much bigger hassle than expected, and all because she was so enthusiastic about his donuts. She hoped meeting her was worthy of such an inconvenient trip (although it probably wasn't).

Solas held his hand out to greet her. He looked quite serious at first, but when she met his gaze, a little smile appeared.

She shook his awaiting hand and felt a tiny tingle from touching his warm skin. “I’m Ellana,” she returned. She released him and grinned. “And your donuts are _phenomenal_.”

“Thank you,” he replied, still with that tiny smile. “I discovered the culinary uses of these herbs during the many travels of my youth.”

“Oh?” Ellana was intrigued.

“Yes, Solas was quite the world-traveler before he opened Doughnut Rebel,” Dorian affirmed, still positioned behind the counter.

Her eyes shifted between the two in confusion. “But... why did you put those herbs in _donuts_?” she asked.

The corner of Solas’ mouth twitched as if about to smile, but he ended up crossing his arms and covering his smirk with a hand instead.

Ellana felt even _more_ embarrassed now. He probably had _years_ of experience inventing different recipes. Her question had most likely sounded silly at best, and ignorant and insulting at worst. _Ugh_. She couldn’t even _compliment_ correctly.

Dorian broke the awkward silence. “Solas has always had an affinity for desserts,” he said. “He can try a food once and discern its properties for cooking.”

“Wow, that’s pretty... impressive,” Ellana remarked.

“Thank you,” Solas said again, inclining his head in acknowledgement.

“I actually tried every flavor you had yesterday.” She laughed and placed a hand to her _very_ hot cheek. “They were all fantastic, especially the elfroot one. I mean, I’ve heard people using that plant for salves and creams, but _food_? What made you actually _taste_ it?”

A laugh escaped Solas then, a rich noise that burned Ellana’s ears. “I had to eat _something_ ,” he answered. He smiled a bit broader.

Ellana raised her brows. He seemed like the sensible, careful type. What kind of situation would make him so desperate for food?

“Solas has backpacked through all sorts of wild places,” Dorian explained. “And yes, he almost _always_ gives such vague answers to everything.”

“Heh,” Ellana coughed. She still didn’t know how to feel about these two, but at least she appreciated their amazing donuts. “So... Can I order another?”

Dorian straightened immediately. “Why, of course! Which one would you like?”

“How about the Honeyed Vandal Aria?” She grinned, remembering the one he had recommended yesterday.

Dorian laughed. “Solas, I am counting this as one of my successful sales.”

“You do not receive commission, Dorian,” he retorted. He was already halfway out the door to return to the kitchen again.

“Oh, but I do. For my pride, I do.” Dorian dropped the donut into a takeaway bag. “The most important commission of all,” he winked.

Ellana smiled as she paid and took the bag from him. “Well, I should be going... but I’ll be back!” The promise sounded forced, but she knew it was authentic. These donuts were just too delectable to stay away from, even if the shop’s employees were a little _eccentric_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot... but it's probably going to be a good few more chapters. All I know is IT AIN'T OVER.
> 
> The shop is inspired by [Doughnut Vault](http://doughnutvault.com/) in Chicago. Delicious donuts. Mmmmm.
> 
> Special thanks to [Maizzy](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/maizzy) for reading through the beginning for me! I would be an extra sticky mess without her. :)


	2. Chapter 2

“Here again, are we?” Dorian smiled.

Ellana had been dropping into Doughnut Rebel on nearly a daily basis for the past month. It started out in a natural fashion. She would trickle in every few days, with a timid hello and quick purchase. Usually, it was to buy a donut, sometimes a coffee, but really (and this had only been in the last week or so) she just liked conversing with the employees. She would pop in on her route to work, when everything was just brewed and baked fresh. It was her only choice on a weekday, since the shop closed in the early afternoon, or whenever they ran out of product.

Dorian was pouring milk into his own cup of caffeine (what the Orlesians would call _café au lait_ **)** as he asked which flavor she fancied today.

She hoped she wasn’t a bother. Dorian was always nice, although she _was_ a paying customer, so what other choice would he have but to act kindly? It was rare to see Solas, but he appeared from time to time. Occasionally, it was for his coffee.

But lately it was to speak to Ellana.

“What should I get today?” she pondered. Her eyes perused the menu, focusing on the white script and avoiding her own shameful reflection in its mirrored surface. She was the very picture of a sugar addict.

“Is that Ellana?”

“Yes, she’s here again,” Dorian confirmed with a smile.

A minute or so later, Solas emerged, arriving through the main door. “I tried a new recipe,” he started without preamble, presenting a single donut on a small plate. “May I have your opinion?”

Every so often, Solas would ask her to taste a new invention, giving her the suspicion that she was their top patron. Ellana had never been the top anything before, although she hardly swelled with pride for being an avid donut-buyer. It was probably more alarming than anything else.

He led Ellana outside to the few tables the shop had assembled for customers. They sat across from each other, and Solas positioned his work neatly between them.

Accepting the confection with both hands, she opened her mouth to take the first bite. _Wait_. Should she use her mouth, or break off a piece with her fingers? The latter would prevent further embarrassment, which would be a nice repose from the (already) heavy gaze of his examination. But she never ate that way, and he would notice. She knew he would.

Ellana decided to go with biting, as that was what normal people did. Her teeth teared through the dough, and she chewed it with deliberate slowness. The flavors burst on her tongue in distinctive detail. She caught the tang of citrus, but also a zing of some spicy botanical. What _was_ that?

“This is excellent,” she said, and then proceeded to list all the strange, but delicious tastes she found.

Solas listened to her with bright eyes and relaxed into his chair with a smile. “Amrita Vein; that is the secret ingredient,” he revealed, “but I only use the roots.”

Ah, she had passed the test. Ellana could tell by the pleased look on his face. It was a little thing to notice, but she had grown accustomed to the different kinds of smiles he wore, or how his eyes would crinkle with approval. She liked how highly he regarded her opinion, even if it was only due to her persistent consumption of donuts.

“Impressive, as always,” she smiled. Her eyes drifted from him to the rounded confection again. “So... how’d you first taste this one?”

He grinned with that same spark in his eye whenever he began one of his stories. Ellana’s tastings usually went this way. They would begin with her testing the new flavor, and then Solas would explain how he came across the herb within it. It was a mutual enjoyment for the both of them; that much was clear. Solas appreciated the feedback on his work (which was always positive because the man could seriously do no wrong), and Ellana loved hearing his stories.

“I found in the Hissing Wastes an ancient burial ground...” he began. There was something enchanting about the cadence of his words. He always told his narratives with such dictation, she wondered if he had actually rehearsed them. Ellana relished the rhythm, the way his voice would inflect between pauses for breath. It was like music. And the accounts were always unfailingly captivating.

“You’ve just been everywhere, haven’t you?” she sighed. She had finished her donut during his tale, and now her elbows rested on the table, supporting her chin. “And it was all for backpacking? Traveling the world?”

Solas hesitated for a moment. A moment longer than she would have expected. Had her question been too invasive?

“Yes,” he answered. “Thedas is best experienced firsthand.”

He was unlike any other city elf she had ever encountered. Most were keen on despising her by her vallaslin alone, and some were ashamed to even be seen with her. The Dalish had a poor reputation among urban dwellers (a universal knowledge), and Solas was not immune to such prejudices. She could tell by the occasional assuming comments he'd made, and his frequent and irking pronoun-misusage in the term “your people.” But she wouldn’t spurn the possibility of a new friend from such small altercations, so she ignored it. And besides, his fascinating stories and cultured knowledge well made up for it.

Ellana smiled. “That’s wonderful.” She then thought over her own life, about the limitations of her clan, and how the most she had ever done was move to Ferelden for a new job (which she was currently procrastinating showing up for). “I’ve never been anywhere.”

His expression melted into some form of sympathy. “There are places rich with history and life. Others better left untouched... but there is always time to see them.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she said. Ellana was relatively young, after all. She pictured herself trekking through an Orlesian desert, the sun beating on her back while the wind howled with sand. It was actually a little scary. She doubted she would even survive. “I don’t think I could ever travel alone like you did.”

Solas raised a brow. “And what makes you believe you must travel alone?” There was a change in his tone. Almost playful. And the curl on each side of his mouth confirmed it.

She could feel her skin heating. What did he mean by that? Was he suggesting that they both travel together? No, they barely knew each other. That would be ridiculous, and very unlike him. _Right?_ A silence was spreading a little too long, and Ellana had to say something before he puzzled together the silly notions running through her mind.

“As much as we all love our dear Ellana,” Dorian teased through the window, “the shop actually needs that coveted attention of yours, Solas.”

Solas frowned, but soon stood from his seat. “Thank you for your opinion on the new flavor, Ellana,” he nodded, “... and your company.” He hurried to the kitchen before she could even reply.

_Your company_. Her face flushed a thousand times redder. Ellana inched her gaze to the Doughnut Rebel window, where a certain mustached employee was shaking his head at her, grinning slyly. He raised a brow.

“What?” she defended.

He laughed. “He certainly has a way with his tongue, doesn’t he?” he smirked.

The suggestion turned her purple. She rose from her seat, muttered a quick goodbye to Dorian, and scurried her way to work. She was pushing late anyway.

Although Dorian’s remark had caught her off-guard, she wouldn't deny her agreement with him. Solas’ tongue was excellent at tasting herbs and spinning tales. She ventured to wonder what other activities it would be good at...  _No_ , she chided. _Bad, bad, bad Ellana_. She was nothing more than his taste-testing customer, and that was how she should remain.

Besides, she had been down that relationship road before, and she was really in no state to begin another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm writing, so oh well!
> 
> I think I'm just going to keep the chapters short(ish) and post every day or every other day because then I don't toil over it so much... Soooooo, updates should be frequent!
> 
> (btw, I'm not expecting this to be some sort of epic or anything... but I always end up making it longer than planned)


	3. Chapter 3

“Where do you get these?”

“Oh, it’s from this really great bakery, right across from my apartment.”

Leliana hummed.“They are very good. I will have to go there sometime.”

Ellana coughed. This obsession was becoming ridiculous. Her office now knew her as the Donut Person. She brought them in on Fridays, although she did it more for herself than her coworkers. Donuts just made her happy. Well, that and the people who worked at the shop...

“Did you finish that ticket?” Leliana asked.

Ellana sipped her coffee and nodded.“Yep. It was a server issue.”

Her colleague sighed. “It always is.”

Work brought her to this city, but it certainly hadn’t helped her adjust here. The only friends Ellana had made were her coworkers Leliana and Cassandra, and only because they were kind enough to take her under their wings. She was grateful for them, but it made her miss the closeness of her clan. Everyone knew each other there.

She had lived in Haven for eight months now, and the Fereldan life felt pretty much normal. She could do without the random slur or insult against her heritage, but they were rare enough to not overwhelm.

Still, sometimes she wished she could meet at least  _one_  other Dalish here. A person who would know what it was like to grow up in aravels orhave vallaslin. That would be nice.

But at least she had one elven friend. Sort of.

 

* * *

 

“Solas?” Ellana asked, surprised to see the elf manning the register today instead of Dorian.

“Hello,” he greeted with effortless composure. “You’re here later than usual,” he observed.

She approached the counter, twiddling her fingers together like a nervous tick. Something about Solas always made her _anxious_. “Well, it’s the weekend! I don’t usually wake up too early on a Saturday, heh...” She glanced around the shop. The interior was mainly stone, which had a rustic look about it, even though it was brand new.

“Yes, a common result of the office worker’s schedule,” he said.

“Right.” She breathed a clumsy laugh, moving a hand to her hair and twirling it between fingers. “So... where’s Dorian?”

“He is taking a break.”

_Taking a break_. Away. From here. Where the saucy Tevinter couldn’t overhear them. This was the first time Solas and Ellana could have a real private conversation. They’d talked plenty, sure, but _alone_? This was the unknown.

“Would you like to order something?” he asked after a few moments of continued silence.

“Oh, yes. Um, anything... new?” Ellana noticed he was wearing blue today. It looked nice on him, brought out the color of his eyes. Those eyes were very distracting.

He gave a small smile. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “Only the regular menu today.”

“That’s fine!” she exclaimed, a little too loud to be considered natural. “I’ll just get a Cinnamon Rashvine, then.”

Solas’ smile spread wider, and he turned to retrieve her order. Meanwhile, Ellana fished her wallet from her bag, digging into its crevices like a fennec. _Oh, no_.

“I think I’ll have to cancel that Cinnamon Rashvine...” she lamented.

He raised a brow. He already held the donut between tongs. “Would you like another flavor?”

“No, actually. I forgot my wallet,” she admitted, staring at the floor, out the window, anywhere but at his eyes. Her face was burning with mortification. She was sure Solas would never do something as irresponsible as forget his wallet. She probably seemed incompetent and unreliable. Oh, why couldn’t Dorian be working instead of him?

She heard paper crinkle as the donut was dropped into a thin takeaway bag. “Then accept it as a gift.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that,” she said, holding her hands up in defense. “I’ll just be on my way, so...”

“I insist.” He reached over the counter and nudged her hand with the paper-wrapped donut. How could she refuse now?

“Ah, thank you,” she surrendered. “I owe you one.”

“You do not. It is complimentary.”

Her initial instinct was to escape this embarrassing situation as fast as her little legs could carry her. But that would be rude, since Solas had so generously given her this donut. The least she could do was stay and chat with him.

It wasn’t like this was the first freebie from him. No, any new flavors she tested were always gratis. This, however, was the first time out of... charity? She shuddered at the thought. _Silly, pathetic Ellana_.

Still, it was a nice gesture, and done out of his gratitude for her loyal patronage, surely. Though the tiniest part of her mind hoped it was because he considered her a friend. And not because she was a bumbling, pitiful Dalish.

She met his gaze, which seemed to never leave her face, and smiled, pushing some hair behind an ear. “Busy day?” she asked, taking a small bite of her gift and steering the conversation into an easier direction. She made sure to close her mouth while she chewed quietly. Solas was always so polite and courteous, and she wanted to look as well-mannered as he did.

“Yes, the morning was particularly crowded, but it has slowed down significantly in the last hour,” Solas said. His eyes moved out the shop window as he recalled.

“Are you here every day?” she babbled, even though she knew the answer. Shouldn’t he take breaks? Ellana had every weekend free, and yet she had never seen Solas absent from the shop.

“Yes.” His answer was firm and short, and punctuated with a slow blink. He gave no other explanation or reasoning, but why would she expect him to, anyway?

Her donut-bites were getting bigger with each swallow. “Must be tiring,” she said. All day in that cramped kitchen. She loved this little shop, but then again, she didn’t spend her long work hours here.

“It can be.”

His vacant tone sounded so resigned, and she pitied him. The poor man worked so hard to achieve his goals and never took a rest for himself. “Don’t you ever get a day off?” she asked. “You must be overworked!”

The corner of his mouth upturned into the tiniest of smiles. “Although tiring, I find several benefits to working continuously.”

Did she just hear an emphasis on the word _benefits_? There were so many connotations that went along with that word...

She gulped down another piece of Cinnamon Rashvine. “Like what?” she asked, trying not to think of particular suggestions Solas could imply. A few played in her mind anyway, though. Activities that happened in the dark, after hours... Her stomach spun a funny feeling, and her heart quickened with skipping beats. She should probably stop eating so many sugary things.

Solas arched a brow. “I can consistently monitor the shop’s progress, and be present for any possible issues or alarming situations,” he said with a voice so level and matter-of-fact.

Ellana nodded and swallowed again. “Oh, I guess that makes sense.” It was a very practical answer, and just the type she should have anticipated. Yes. She was relieved, really. Not disappointed at all. _Nope._

“I also appreciate seeing the reactions of those enjoying my work,” Solas continued, the other corner of his mouth rising to match the first.

“Well, it’s really good, so of course they’ll love it,” she smiled. Ellana had no need to fear this innocent, friendly conversation. She relaxed the muscles of her body that she hadn’t realized were tensed. This was just a normal chat between people. “My coworkers all love these donuts.”

Solas laughed. “You bring these to your work? I assumed you kept them for yourself,” he teased with a raised brow.

“I’m not _that_ obsessed,” she said with mock indignation. “You really thought I’d buy two dozen for myself, and then come back for more the next day?” Even if they had herbs with  _some_ nutritional value, she wasn’t deluded enough to think it was healthy.

He grinned. “I would not put it past you.”

“Hey, careful!" Ellana laughed, despite herself. “You may lose a customer with that kind of talk.” She smiled and took the final bite of her Cinnamon Rashvine.

“That would be regrettable,” Solas said. His eyes scanned her face in a slow, languid manner before meeting her gaze again. “I find the most appealing aspect of working daily is the presence of certain individuals.”

Ellana had almost eaten the whole donut without incident, but naturally she choked on the last remainder when he said _that_. “Certain individuals?” she squeaked between breathy coughs. _Oh, gods_. _  
_

Solas hummed, leaning the slightest bit forward. “I apologize; it was supposed to be singular.”

“Singular?” she asked, but it sounded more like a broken choke.

“A _certain_ individual,” he corrected. His smile was wide and playful now, with a tiny twinkle in his eye.

_A certain individual_ , Ellana repeated in her mind. A panic raced her heart, and she couldn’t seem to move her body or find any words to speak. Was he referring to her? He had to be, why else would he say that? Appealing. He had used the word appealing. Did this mean he found her _appealing_? Like in the way she found _him_ appealing (which she most definitely _did_ )?

A thousand thoughts flew across her brain. All the signs she could have missed (or rather avoided). The conversations, the smiles, the laughs. But no, she was being silly. He couldn’t think of her as anything else but a faithful customer. She was awkward, she was Dalish. She was probably more annoying to him than anything else. A person he had to be extra polite with to keep her business.

Ellana stood there wide-eyed and speechless, until the moments drew out in uncomfortable length. Solas observed her the entire time, tilting his head with curiosity. His lips parted, and taking a hesitant breath, he said, “Ellana, would you—”

“I’ve returned!” Dorian announced. The two elves jumped from his voice, and Solas immediately straightened his posture away from her.

Dorian slid the giant rack of donuts that separated the kitchen from the storefront so he could trade places with Solas. It was an awkward movement, and this was the first time Ellana had ever actually seen it done. With only a curt nod goodbye to her, Solas (who had turned noticeably redder) slipped out of view, and the donuts returned to their usual station.

“Oh, hello, Ellana.” Dorian smiled. “What may I get you today?”

She finally found some form of speaking. “Oh, I just ate, so I’m going to go, and um, see you later, bye!” She hurried out of Doughnut Rebel like she was running for her life.

That had been much too close. She escaped to her apartment, her heart still pounding in her ears. Why was she so afraid? It was only Solas. And she liked Solas (obviously).

But Ellana knew the real reason. She had been burned one too many times before not to be careful around the signs. Dalish and other elves just couldn’t date. Drama always occurred. Plus, if Solas _really_ got to know her, he’d realize how dull she was, how uncultured and naive she could be, how incredibly inept she acted in social gatherings. He’d run. Probably even faster than she had just moments ago.

It was best to stay away from him, at least for the time being. She would have to savor that Cinnamon Rashvine for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, whoops. Somehow that Dorian interrupts again... Poor Ellana.


	4. Chapter 4

Cassandra was visiting her apartment today. Ellana appreciated the company, even if she saw her each weekday at the office. They sipped tea together, chatting about new developments in their lives. Cassandra recently received a promotion at work, even though she felt positive another person was more worthy.

“No, Cassandra. If you were chosen, then you were the most qualified,” Ellana assured. “Don’t beat yourself up over being successful. You’ve earned it.”

Her friend smiled and drank another sip of tea. They sat in Ellana’s kitchen at a small dining table, the window beside them overlooking an expanse of shops and street. Doughnut Rebel was still open, Ellana noted, although she tried not to think anything more. She failed. It had been four days since that Cinnamon Rashvine, and she had yet to taste another or even step foot inside the shop.

“Is that the store you buy those donuts from?” Cassandra asked, eyes pointing at the very object of Ellana’s thoughts.

“Um, yeah. Their donuts are really good,” Ellana mumbled. She kept her voice flat and unaffected in an attempt to hide her inner disquiet.

“I don’t care for donuts,” Cassandra remarked with a slightly disgusted tone. “They are too sweet, and often _sticky_.” She had never tried the ones Ellana brought to work.

“You might like these ones, actually,” Ellana suggested, imagining the taste in her mind. “The baker is very talented. He makes all his donuts with herbs. They’re really unique.” Her mouth suddenly felt dry as she thought about him... or maybe it was about the donuts. She really missed those donuts. Those conversations with donuts...

“Oh?” Cassandra asked, far more interested now. “You know this baker?”

“Well, he’s the owner, so I’ve seen him a lot there.”

They weren’t old friends, but it often felt like Cassandra had known Ellana her entire life. She picked up a hint of some emotion in the elf’s voice and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Oh, Ellana,” she sighed.

“What?” She sounded more defensive than she should.

“You have a crush on the owner, don’t you?”

“No, that’s silly...” Ellana tried to lie. And it was definitely a lie. No denying that. She liked him. Solas was so intelligent and creative, and his words could transport her to faraway places or surprise her with a laugh. Saying she only liked him bordered on deception.

It took one raised-brow stare and set of crossed arms from Cassandra to release the entire truth. The woman could interrogate like no other (although Ellana was especially susceptible).

The elf spilled every detail, telling all the way to the Cinnamon Rashvine Incident and studying her tea instead of her friend’s face. Now that someone else knew, it felt all the more real and necessary to confront.

“You have not returned since?” Cassandra’s voice sounded disapproving. Ellana was terrified to see what her _expression_ looked like. She pictured it to be one of incredulous vexation, but then again, she had a slightly overactive imagination.

Ellana gave a small shake of her head. She hadn’t touched her tea since starting the story (only stared), and it was getting cold. What would a donut taste like dipped in it?

“Why not?” Cassandra asked, trying to sound softer this time. It helped.

“There’s... a lot of reasons,” Ellana said. She met the woman’s gaze again. She didn’t want to delve deeper, but she would because it was for Cassandra. “I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

It was clear that Cassandra did not believe this a viable answer. She opened her mouth to protest, but Ellana resigned before she could speak. “I don’t want to get hurt,” she confessed in a soft cry.

Cassandra understood without any further explanation. Her friend knew Ellana’s relationship history. Mainly because most of the “history” had happened in the past eight months. Her heart had already been broken twice this year, and Ellana refused to continue the pattern.

“You are sure he is one of those?” Cassandra asked.

Ellana sighed, eyes trailing out the window to the shop below. “Positive.”

She had a habit of falling for people like Solas. Someone so knowledgeable and refined, who would act like she was wonderful, but ultimately wouldn’t even introduce her to friends or family. And all because she was a Dalish elf. The stigma of her vallaslin had affected her one too many times. Her people weren’t the uneducated lowlifes everyone pegged them for; they were targets. Victims of a system that city elves just didn’t understand.

And Solas was a city elf. Another mistake was not what she needed.

 

* * *

 

Today was a melancholy one. The type of day she just looked out the window. The sun cast a yellow haze over her room, making everything appear warmer than it was. Ellana wasn’t actually ill, but she called in sick to work anyway. She just felt... empty.

Her apartment was on the third floor, so everyone on the street seemed smaller than they should be. Ellana liked to watch the people walk by, even if it made her a little forlorn. It was early morning, and she noticed a line outside of Doughnut Rebel. _How nice_. It was good that they were getting business.

She hadn’t been there in over a week.

Ellana knew she shouldn’t, but she wondered if Dorian and Solas ever thought about her. Especially Solas. She really shouldn’t.

Dropping off like that made her guilty, even if she had no obligation to continue going there. The line outside their door exhibited some form of success. They probably didn’t even notice she was missing.

She rested her chin against an elbow as she gazed down below. The Doughnut Rebel customers looked so happy as they exited with pink boxes in hand. Maybe she wasn’t lonely, and it was only her stomach feeling empty.

Life had to move on, and her absence had proved its point by now, whether he noticed it or not.

 

* * *

 

It was just past the lunch rush when she walked in. The door chimed like a siren, and she briefly considered fleeing back to her apartment.

“I was starting to worry about you, Ellana,” Dorian smiled. It seemed like a genuine expression, but Ellana’s ability to read people was never superb.

“Yeah, I got busy,” she lied. A baby would have more to do.

Dorian’s smile still held though, whether he believed her or not. The man then pulled a little baggie out from somewhere, placing it on the counter between them. “This is from Solas.”

Ellana examined the small package, which was one of the usual Doughnut Rebel takeaway containers. “Is he here?” she whispered, glancing up at Dorian again.

“No, he already left for the day. But he has been leaving this here for you every day this past week, so I suggest you take it.” Dorian poked the bag closer with a finger. “I’ll probably be fired if you don’t,” he said with a wink.

Her face grew warm as she accepted the bag. Ellana thanked Dorian and ducked out of the shop. Once safely back home, she opened it, unsurprised to find a donut inside. But there was a note, too. Her stomach fluttered as she unfolded it. There could be a number of sentiments written inside. An apology? Some confused questioning?

A confession?

She shook her head, took a deep breath, and read the note:

_Ellana,_  
_You inspired me to create a new flavor: Chocolate Crystal Grace. I hope you find it to your liking._  
_Solas_

She didn’t know why, but the note made her laugh. Although, it was the kind of laugh that watered her eyes, too. She had just overreacted during that whole appealing-certain-individual commotion. He was still the same (sort of) friend as ever. Nothing had changed. No drama, no issues.

Ellana bit the donut with an eager appetite. It was delicious. She had to thank him for it tomorrow on her way to work.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, is Solas here?” she asked.

Dorian raised both brows at the elf. “Not even a civil greeting to me, Ellana? I’m hurt.”

She heard a kerfuffle in the kitchen before she could even apologize. Someone was hurrying from the oven, and the bell soon rang behind her.

“Yes?” that velvety voice said.

Ellana smiled at Dorian (who was rolling his eyes at the two) and turned around, her skin feeling many degrees warmer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Solas breathed with a grin. “Did you receive my message?” The collar of his shirt was the slightest bit disheveled, like he had ripped his apron off in a haste.

“Yes,” she said. Ellana had to laugh. At him, at the situation, at herself. “The flavor was good. Amazing and tasty. Now tell me how you discovered Crystal Grace.” It was strange, but she felt so relieved by the easy exchange that all shyness fell away.

Solas took a step back, pushing the store door open behind him. “After you,” he said, smiling and gesturing his hand outside. She followed him to their regular table.

“Have you ever traveled through the Emerald Graves?” he began.

She shook her head, smiling like an idiot and relishing the familiar conversation. The world felt a little more normal again.

In fact, it felt so “normal,” that she had trouble sleeping the following nights. Her mind kept thinking about Solas. His travels, his donuts, his laughter. _Ugh_. It was horrible.

_We’re supposed to be friends_ , Ellana kept reminding herself. _I want to be friends_. She thought of the last guy she dated. Remembering how he would only take her out in other cities. She liked trying new places, so of course she agreed.

But then she discovered he was cheating on her. Or rather, cheating on someone else _with_ Ellana. At least his real girlfriend dumped him, too. But that woman was the one he proudly had at his side around town, her face as bare as a Dalish teenager.

_Never again._ No more city elves.

 

* * *

 

Ellana sighed, stirring the tiny red straw of her cocktail. The liquid whirled in her glass like a red tornado.

“She is thinking about the baker again,” Cassandra explained to Leliana.

“Oh? Is it true? Do you have someone special in your life, Ellana?” Leliana purred. She took a sip of her own beverage. “I haven’t heard.”

Ellana blinked up from her glass, falling back into reality. Hadn’t they all been talking about some new book or something? When did the conversation switch to her love life?

“There’s nothing to tell,” Ellana said. She strummed her fingers on the bar top. The Herald’s Rest was one of their usual hangouts. It was a cozy sort of pub that sported dimmed lights and sticky wooden furniture, and was conveniently only a few blocks from her apartment.

“She visits his bakery almost every day,” Cassandra elaborated. “It is not ‘nothing’.”

“We’re friends,” she defended. “Besides, you _know_ why it’s not more.”

“But you go there all the time,” Cassandra reasoned, “and have acted strange lately. You have that dreamy look in your eye.”

Ellana snorted. “You watch too many romance dramas.”

“I must agree with her,” Leliana chimed. “You seem distracted.” She lowered her voice. “What is he like?”

Ellana did not want to divulge all her forbidden thoughts, but Cassandra was delighted to do it for her. Soon, every Solas-related feeling Cassandra knew of was revealed to Leliana, who _ooh_ ed and _ahh_ ed in all the proper places. She exaggerated a few of the details (their first meeting sounded like a dramatic scene in a movie), but Ellana held her tongue regardless.

“Oh, my,” Leliana said. “He sounds like everything she adores.”

Ellana rolled her eyes. She waved to the bartender and requested another fruity mixed drink.

“But he is not Dalish,” Cassandra sighed, propping her cheek up with an elbow.

Leliana hummed. “Ellana, you can’t think all city elves are like the ones from your past.”

“Yeah,” Ellana said, “but that’s what I said for the last one, remember?”

Leliana tapped the side of her glass in contemplation. “If he is as cultured as he seems, he could be more open-minded,” she contended. “You should not punish the many for the few.”

Of course she was right, but why risk it? Ellana had her job and her friends. Romance was unneeded. Her current standing with Solas was perfectly fine. Kind of.

A surly dwarf handed her a fresh cocktail, which she added to her tab. Ellana sipped the straw and wandered her eyes from her friends to around the room. She was content. She was happy.

“Oh, no,” Ellana cried, observing two figures at the door. Of course. Of _course_.

Dorian and Solas had just entered the bar, and they noticed her within an instant. She was definitely screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, such turmoil!
> 
> Also, happy The Descent DLC day! I shan't be playing it yet because the PS4 network is WHACK. Guh.


	5. Chapter 5

Her stomach churned a mixture of dread and excitement from the sight of them. Ellana must have the worst luck in all of Thedas. She wouldn’t have minded as much if she were alone, but with the two ladies beside her, this night could easily turn catastrophic. At least for Ellana.

Her eyes locked with Solas’ right away when he came in. There was no stopping it. It was an uncontrollable collision just waiting to happen.

She raised a hesitant hand towards them like she was asking a question in school, and he smiled back. It was the tiniest of shy smiles, but he also waved and they walked over. They all exchanged some quick hellos and introductions and don’t-let-us-intrudes, but of course Leliana and Cassandra weren’t having that.

So now the five of them were all situated at a circular table, and of course, her coworkers had somehow maneuvered Ellana to sit next to Solas. The table was much too small for a group their size, and she bumped legs with Solas in the process of getting seated. He apologized immediately (even though it was an innocent accident), but it still brought a blush to her face.

She really hated her friends sometimes.

Everyone had a drink in hand, and Ellana could not believe this was happening. She had never pictured Solas the type to go out for a drink, although Dorian probably talked him into it. Recent events left an awkward elephant between her and Solas, and even though they both were adept at ignoring it, she did not want it magnified by her prying coworkers.

“Where does this name Doughnut Rebel come from?” Cassandra inquired, and Ellana internally praised her for the neutral conversation starter.

Dorian perked up in his chair. “Our donuts are one of a kind,” he said. “They are different and against the monotonous norm! You wouldn’t find a simple glazed or old-fashioned.”

The ladies all nodded. It made sense with their product, although it wasn’t a title she imagined the owner inventing. “So Solas named it Doughnut Rebel?” Ellana asked.

Dorian outright laughed. “Oh no, of course not! Why, he just wanted to call the place ‘Doughnut Shop,’ as if that were acceptable!” He gave Solas a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“It _is_ perfectly acceptable,” Solas argued.

Dorian rolled his eyes. “I told him he had to have a name with pizzazz, something people would remember.” His hand motioned to the word _pizzazz_. “So _I_ was the one who came up with Doughnut Rebel.”

Ellana giggled at the image of Solas resigning to the name. “What would he do without you, Dorian?” She smiled at Solas beside her.

“I often worry the same thing,” Dorian teased.

The night continued with congenial ice breakers, and everyone discussed the usual things—work, hobbies, funny stories. Ellana relaxed into the comfortable atmosphere of the pub. She felt warm (probably from the alcohol) and in looser, more dangerous spirits. Smiles and laughs came in easy turns, and any awkwardness in the group diminished. She nearly forgot about the strange relationship she had with Solas, and found herself happy to be caught up in one of his stories again. Their quiet, private conversation was a stark contrast to the laughter of their friends.

“And she did this every day, like a secret pleasure,” Solas told her, continuing another anecdote. He wore a lazy smile on his lips as he spoke. Ellana felt so mesmerized by him, and her eyes traced the contours of his face without thought. He had such nice features...

“A secret pleasure,” she echoed. “Sounds fun.” She was a little more lost in the timbre of his voice than his actual words.

“At times.”

His knee bumped hers again, but didn’t move this time. It stationed itself beside her leg, a gentle heat radiating off him. They both wore pants, but her heart still raced from the contact. The contact that only the two of them were aware of.

Ellana’s lips curled with deviance as she swayed her knee ever slightly, grazing against his with deliberate firm contact. Solas’ brow rose, and a smile just as sly spread across his mouth. Touching him charged her whole body, and she wondered how it would react without the barrier of clothing between them.

“... that, Ellana?” Leliana asked.

“Hm, what?”

Leliana tsked in disapproval. “I asked if you remember that story with Cullen and the office memo?”

Ellana blinked her awareness back to the group. “Oh, you mean what happened yesterday? With the copier?”

She laughed. “Yes, why don’t you tell the story? You are so funny when you tell it.”

Ellana straightened in her chair, breaking her attention (and knee) away from Solas and piecing the memories together in her mind. Whether Leliana had known it or not, Ellana silently thanked her for stopping such absurd touching.

“Cullen is such a hard worker that I hate to make fun of him,” she said to the group with a wicked grin, “but when you leave a hundred printouts of your shopping list in the copier, it’s kind of asking for it...”

The story of Cullen’s fumble was nearly heartbreaking in its hilarity, particularly when Ellana described the contents of his list, and the entire table laughed, even if Dorian and Solas had no idea who he was. She felt an odd contentment from combining her different sets of friends. It was like two worlds were harmonizing into one perfect symbiosis. Her circle in Haven was growing, and she could feel the beginnings of belonging.

Other tales were told and time flew well into the night, but everyone ordered another round regardless.

Ellana studied the ice cubes of her glass, smiling with a fondness only an inebriated person could feel towards a beverage. Her gaze crawled to Solas, who admired her own eyes in return, and she bit her lip to prevent any goofy grinning. She failed. This was so very bad. She had sworn off romance only some hours ago, but just a few (four) cocktails and a knee-bump later, and she was ready to leap.

She forced her eyes to Dorian instead. “Have you guys been here before?” Ellana hiccuped.

“No,” the two men answered in unison.

Dorian smiled. “It was a long day,” he explained. “We had a visit from our”—he clucked his tongue—“ _investor_.”

Solas sighed as if to further illustrate their unease with this person. He took a heavy swig of his drink. “She certainly is a tenacious woman,” Solas smirked.

Dorian snorted. “She wants to redo all the floors.” He jabbed an accusatory finger at Solas. “Didn’t I tell you this would happen? You can only convince her of that ‘vintage’ look for so long...”

“Did you say that?” the elf mocked with feigned innocence. “I was probably too distracted by your _charm_ to listen.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “I suppose I shouldn’t fight a nice break from work.”

“Break?” Ellana’s brows shot up.

Solas nodded, focusing his eyes on his beverage. “We will need to close for some time.” He swirled the liquid of his glass by tilting it between hands.

“Really?” Ellana disheartened at the words. She slunk back into her seat. Doughnut Rebel closed? How will she ever see hi— _eat_ donuts? It left an unpleasant feeling in her gut.

When Dorian soon fell off his chair during some animated storytelling, the five called it a night. They shuffled out of Herald’s Rest, and as Ellana was zipping up her coat, Solas sidled up next to her.

“Would you like a ride home?”

“Yes, she would!” Cassandra slurred. “This weather is too cold to walk.”

Solas arched a brow. “Walk?”

Ellana rubbed her neck. “Ah, it’s okay, I walked here. I live pretty close, so...”

“Which direction do you live?” Solas asked. “Perhaps I could—”

“You ladies are sharing a cab with me, yes?” Dorian exclaimed, wrapping both his arms around Leliana and Cassandra. “These Fereldan taxis are _murderous_.”

The women giggled. “See you on Monday, Ellana!” They bid their farewells to the elves and hopped into a car. Ellana’s ears burned from the cold and the sudden isolation. She hesitated a peek at Solas, who was still waiting for an answer.

She exhaled and knew there was no point in attempting an escape. “I live near Doughnut Rebel, so that direction.” She aimed a thumb behind her and tried not to blush when he smiled.

Solas informed her that his car was parked at the shop, so now they _had_ to walk together. As the two moved in silence down the sidewalk, she imagined a thousand disasters this night could end in. The panic sobered her up in an instant, but not enough to restrain her arm from brushing along his in nearly every stride. _What am I doing? What am I doing?_ her mind chanted.

“It was fortuitous that we ran into you tonight,” Solas said, staring ahead. “The contractors begin tomorrow, and I had no way to contact you.”

She reddened a few shades deeper. Did he really think it so necessary to tell her? Perhaps he really _did_ consider her an addict.

“Starting up renovations so soon?” Ellana was eager to switch their conversation away from herself.

“So it appears.”

She noticed how his hand hung at his side, just waiting there like bait for a hungry animal. And Ellana was that animal who was starving to hold it. She pictured the gentleness of those fingers lacing with hers. His hands must be so nimble from foraging all the peculiar plants he cooked with...

Solas didn't seem very intoxicated, although he was quieter than usual. His eyes were fixed on their path, not even sneaking a glance towards her (and she would notice, too, because of her own blatant, continuous stare). She hated admitting it, but she was terribly attracted to this man. In more ways than one.

“Ellana.”

Her eyes shot into the opposite direction. “Hmm?” She pretended to observe some building across the empty street. And then she realized it was _her_ building. They had reached Doughnut Rebel.

“Guess we're here, so I will... see you... later...” She stumbled home without even looking his way.

“Will you be all right walking alone?” he called after her.

Ellana was nearly to the other side of the street, but turned back with a raised brow. “I live right here.” She pointed to her window on the third floor. She wasn't sure how comfortable she felt revealing her residence, but the alcohol fought her worry with ease.

“You live in that building?” Solas laughed, still standing in front of his shop. “I had no idea you were so close.”

She shrugged. “Life’s funny like that.” She smiled, taking a step backwards. Her heel caught on the curb, and she tumbled to the ground in the most ungraceful fashion possible. Walking backwards and drinking was a perilous mix.

Ellana lied on the hard pavement, soaking in the embarrassment. At least she had landed on the sidewalk. Solas emerged above her, concern written all over his horribly handsome face.

“I’m fine,” she said. Fine with dying right here.

He offered his hand, which she took with only moderate hesitation. Solas pulled her to standing again, but didn’t let go when she was balanced. His thumb brushed across her knuckles in the lightest of caresses.

This was so unfair. How had this happened? He was so close to her. She couldn’t breathe.

And even though she shouldn’t, Ellana was leaning towards him, so close the fabrics of their jackets touched. She felt that terrible need to kiss him. Her eyes flickered towards his lips, so soft and full and ready, before meeting his again. It was difficult to think with her mind so fogged with lingering alcohol and desire. Her heart pounded and her stomach somersaulted in anticipation of pressing her mouth to his. It was just those lips, that skin, his touch in her thoughts.

But it was Solas who pulled away. He untangled his hands and stepped back. “The shop may be closed for a week—possibly more,” he sighed.

Her trance surged into disappointment. Ellana blinked a few times before busying her gaze towards her bag to dig for her keys. Her skin felt so hot, and she needed to flee, escape this mishap with what little dignity she still held. “That’s a shame,” she commented. She discovered her keys and tugged them out while walking to her door.

“I could call you when we open again,” Solas suggested.

“Yeah, sure,” she answered absently, concentrating on her building’s door as she slid her key in the lock. So close.  _I’m so close._

“I would need your number, of course.”

She froze. He was sneaky, this one. How did he manage to surprise her so often? If she gave him her phone number... Her mind automatically played out the fantasies. The two of them texting, calling, chatting away into the night, sending photos...

Ellana rattled off the number as swiftly as the wind, and then busted inside the door and shut it behind her. She was pretty rude to leave in such a manner, but the exhilaration consumed any regrets. If he somehow remembered that flurry of digits, then he deserved to have such a direct access of communication. She smiled to herself as she climbed to the third floor. There was no way he would remember. It was impossible, especially since she had included the area code.

But the worst part of it all was that she secretly, stupidly hoped he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is getting a little crazy. I might slow down a bit. O_o


	6. Chapter 6

Ellana wasn’t exactly hungover, but she didn’t feel great. There was a lingering fatigue as she got up well past morning, blessing the weekend for its freedom from work. She brewed coffee first thing, and then idly tapped her fingers on her kitchen counter as the water came to a boil.

She had tried to kiss Solas last night, hadn’t she?

Ellana let out a muffled scream, cursing her vulnerability to those damned cocktails. But she would be fooling herself to say it was only the alcohol which drove her. No, it was that awful, tempting Solas.

Her kettle whistled with completion. She sighed and poured it over her coffee grounds.  _I’m such an idiot_.

When she thought back to it, it didn’t even seem like he wanted to kiss her back. It was more like he worried she would fall over if he let go of her hand (which was sound logic, really). Ellana remembered the way his eyes looked so serious, how his brow was slightly raised, and he had this quizzical tilt to his head...  _Oh, please, let it just be a dream_.

But it wasn’t. In her (semi-)drunken stupor, she had attempted a kiss and given him her number. At least he had asked for the latter.

Solas hadn’t called or texted yet either, but why would he? He had said it was for when the shop reopened, if he even caught her phone number at all.

Ellana sat at the square table in her kitchen with a hot mug in hand. A small troop of people hustled in and out of Doughnut Rebel below her. They were carrying various supplies from a truck, and Ellana assumed them to be the contractors. At least Solas wouldn’t be there for a week or so, and she could avoid facing him for a while. 

She sipped her coffee and watched them work.

Ellana hated how she now lived in this strange limbo of emotion. Afraid of getting hurt, but too attracted to stay away. She had difficulty imagining these Solas-feelings could disappear with ease. The smartest choice would be to never see him again.

But her mind was already whispering possibilities of a relationship. Solas was different. He wouldn’t do all that horrible stuff her exes had been so inclined to. Solas was thoughtful and considerate and open-minded.

“Ugh,” she moaned.  _He’s amazing_.

Her resolve was on its last leg, and she chided herself for being so weak to his wily charms. But it was more than his crafty flirting or subtle expressions. His personality was capturing her faster than anything else.

Although, these thoughts could be completely irrelevant because _he_ was the one who pulled away last night. Maybe he didn’t  _want_  to kiss her. Ellana sighed at the notion.

And then she nearly spit out her coffee when she saw Solas himself pop out of the shop. She instinctively ducked her head, but realized how silly that was and straightened her posture again. It would be impossible to see her with the sun’s reflection on her window, and why would he look up here anyway?

She was so very wrong.

As if on cue from something personally created to make Ellana’s life the most embarrassing one to ever exist, he looked up and waved at her.

She hesitantly waved back, wishing someone would just wake her from this nightmare. Last night, and now this?

Solas smiled as if he hadn’t caught her peeping at him like a stalker, as if she hadn’t tried to kiss him yesterday, or yell her number before slamming the door in his face. Her eyes practically watered from the sight. Bless his kind, sexy soul.

Ellana slinked away from the window as soon as he turned. This was such a confusing situation, and she hadn’t a clue what to do. What was the normal response to this? It felt like he was offering some kind of reprieve. Maybe he was pretending like none of last night had happened. Or maybe... he didn’t even  _remember_  what happened.

She clapped her hands together and prayed to every god she had ever cursed with.  _Please, please, please let the alcohol from last night erase any incriminating memory of me_. With a final solemn promise to never say another pantheon joke again, Ellana readied herself for the day. She showered and shampooed, dressed and combed through her mess of locks, and smiled to herself in the mirror.  _Everything will be fine_.

Ellana glanced out her window again. Well, more like peered around a corner so he wouldn’t notice her. Solas was sitting at a table outside and watching the contractors work in his shop. He looked lonely, in dire need of company...

She should at least apologize for last night.

 

* * *

 

“Hi.”

Solas raised his gaze to her with a smile so warm it felt like an undeserved embrace. “Hello,” he returned.

“How are you doing?” she asked. Ellana seated herself across from him and folded her hands on the tabletop, hoping she appeared calm.

“Considerably improved now,” he smiled.

Her cheeks warmed, but she continued her mission to apologize to him, except looking down at the grain of wood between them instead. “I’m really sorry about last night.”

“Why?”

Her eyes lifted to his again in surprise. Was it possible he really  _did_  forget? He looked as serious as ever, and any hint of a smile had disappeared. Solas showed no indication of the shameful encounters with Ellana last night, as if they were just having one of their regular, everyday conversations.

“I was really rude?” Her voice sounded as hesitant as she felt.

His eyebrow rose. “Were you?”

Yes? Not only with the strange almost-kiss, but the shouting and the slamming, too. Was his memory actually blank of the incident?

“Hey boss, you should probably check this out,” a man’s deep voice called behind them.

Ellana turned to see a large qunari sticking his head out of the shop. Solas nodded and rose from his chair. He started to walk, but stopped by Ellana’s side. “Would you like to see the progress?” he asked, still with that normal, collected tone.

She agreed and followed him inside, her heart pumping with liberation and lips grinning with relief. Maybe she really  _was_  off the hook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably going to be shorter daily chapters from now on! That, or a few days between each update. Which one is better??


	7. Chapter 7

Upon seeing the disaster that Doughnut Rebel had become, Ellana decided it was best to leave Solas to his shop. The flooring was torn away, transforming the quaint establishment into a mess of fragmented wood and scattered nails. An expected state for renovations, of course, but no place for some random customer like Ellana to be trampling in on.

The shop felt foreign without the familiar smell of dough and spice, and the usual serene quiet replaced by a noisy group of workers who were literally whistling while they worked. Together they recited some chant unfamiliar to Ellana, laughing when it ended with a rambunctious “Our horns be pointing up!”

On another day, she would have found the sight of such camaraderie endearing (especially since one of the contractors was Dalish), but her still-recovering senses were too overwhelmed to enjoy it. Not only that, but Solas barely acknowledged her, being far more preoccupied with protecting his kitchen equipment. Ellana did them both a favor by volunteering to leave.

“Well, it was nice seeing you!” she bid with the most cheer her voice could muster. “I’ve got some stuff to do, so I’m just going to head out...”

“Thank you for stopping by,” Solas said, examining some tiles from the contractor with his back towards her. “I will call you when the shop reopens.” His flat tone sounded like a brush off. He didn’t even turn to watch her go or wave goodbye.

A twinge of disappointment clenched in her heart from his obvious indifference, but it was better than outright disdain, she supposed. Still, Ellana felt a dissonant gnawing that any fondness he might have held for her was disappearing. Last night began the slippery slope of typical Ellana-disasters she had (up until now) miraculously avoided. How could she blame him for breaking away before it got worse? With how offensive she had acted, it was the reasonable thing to do.

She also noted his offhanded mention of calling her meant he really did have her phone number. She would ponder that later.

A few steps out of the shop, she bumped into Dorian. He looked somewhat more disheveled than usual, with reddened eyes and dark circles beneath them. Most individuals could pass this state as normal, but for someone so typically polished, it was a clear change.

Dorian greeted her with a tired grunt, muttering about how unfair it was that Solas had made him work at all today. He glowered at the shop like it was his arch nemesis, and practically winced at each sip of the coffee he held.

“Bad hangover?” Ellana asked. Dorian might feel terrible, but his regrets would pale in comparison to hers. She would trade positions with him in an instant, especially if it meant regaining a certain baker’s affection.

Laughter inside the shop masked their conversation from prying ears. “Nothing some coffee and a nice view of muscled workers can’t fix.” He gave a taut smile, quirking a brow as he glanced through the window. “Have fun last night?” he asked, still observing Doughnut Rebel.

Ellana shuddered at the memories that had haunted her all day. Too much fun, perhaps. And yet not nearly as much as she wanted. Ellana followed his eyes towards the window. “Yeah, it was fun hanging out all together,” she shrugged with feigned nonchalance.

Dorian’s expression shifted to one of amused skepticism. “Oh yes, your friends are lovely ladies, and we must do it again sometime, but I was not referring to the entire group,” he said, both brows now raised with suggestion.

“What? Are you talking about me and...” Ellana tilted her head towards the shop.

“Obviously.”

It seemed like everyone knew about her weird tango with Solas. But whatever she had with him was already in decline. “Yeah, um... no. Nothing like that,” she assured, pursing her lips and knotting her hands.

“Really?” Dorian scrutinized her with narrowed eyes as he took a sip from his coffee. “But he seemed so  _happy..._ ” He squinted into the shop again as if searching for further evidence to disprove her claims.

_Happy?_  Ellana snapped to attention. “Solas seemed happy?” she asked, voice lilting in desperate hope.

Dorian returned his gaze to her. “Listen, Ellana, I don’t want to get between”—he gestured his paper cup between the shop and Ellana—“whatever this is.”

“Please, Dorian, just tell me. It’s just an  _observation_ ,” Ellana begged, clasping her hands together in her plea.

The man shook his head with a surrendering exhale. “He seemed...  _unusually_  chipper this morning, not even scolding me for coming in two hours late or taking an early lunch.” He laughed. “I should ask for a raise while I’m at it.”

Ellana looked into the shop again, where Solas was just within view, halfway blocked by the large shoulders of the Qunari contractor. Hadn’t he been so  _aloof_  when she spoke to him? He had smiled, sure, but it didn’t even seem like he remembered yesterday, let alone cared. Unless Solas was avoiding the topic to prevent further awkwardness.

Dorian clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, Ellana, you’ve certainly chosen an odd one.”

“I haven’t  _chosen_  anything,” she argued, flushing a hundred times redder.

Dorian laughed and patted her on the head. “Well, whatever you think, dear.” He then headed inside the shop entrance. “But do let me know if you figure out the mysteries of the taciturn man,” he called over his shoulder.

While still officially undecided about Solas, her heart was sure leaning towards him. Ellana couldn’t assume Solas had acted happy this morning because of her, although she could hope. _Ugh_. She was such a dope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was supposed to post this yesterday, but got very busy, so whoops! Thank you for sticking with my rambling story regardless!! <3


	8. Chapter 8

“What happened?” Leliana and Cassandra demanded the moment she stepped into the office.

“You have not told us anything.” Leliana grinned and raised a brow. “Are we to assume you had a good weekend?”

They fired a series of questions at Ellana which ranged from innocent to outright ridiculous. No, he had  _not_  proposed. Ellana knew they were only joking, but her tenuous relationship with Solas was stressing her out enough as it was. He had yet to call or text her. Wouldn’t an interested person contact her by now? _No, of course not_. A few days were hardly a long enough period to worry about. Although the time felt excruciating.

But she definitely wasn’t obsessing about it. Especially at work when she had lots of code to be writing.

Ellana sighed in frustration. “No. Nothing happened,” she said, swiveling away from them in her desk chair, “and if you know any nice available Dalish, I’m all ears.”

The ladies pouted in silence after that. Ellana loved her friends and appreciated their caring, but she didn't need the constant reminders of a certain someone. No, she really shouldn’t even be thinking of romance at all.

And then at home that evening, Ellana received a call from an unknown number. Every previous thought of how she had no time for a relationship or how she should be looking for a Dalish date disappeared in a flash. It had to be his number ringing. Her heart stuttered with crazy palpitations as she answered the phone.

“Hello, Ellana? This is Solas.” He had that same melting voice as always.

She had to purse her lips to keep from shouting, a rush of nerves flooding her stomach. But she played it as cool as she could. “Hi.”

Their conversation was brief, but warm nonetheless. Solas told her of Doughnut Rebel’s reopening, and how the renovations had gone over smoothly. He hinted at her coming by to try a new flavor, but only if she felt up for it, of course.

“Yes,” Ellana agreed in a quick breath. She cleared her throat. “Of course.”

“I look forward to it,” he said. She thought she heard a smile.

And that was it. Short and polite, but the fact that Solas was calling at all showed some form of dedication. To her continued donut-purchasing business, at least. She sat down in her kitchen with a disappointed huff and glanced out the window. All the lights of Doughnut Rebel were off, and it was obviously closed.

Now that he knew where she lived, it was essential for her to speed past the shop without notice and avoid any possible bumbling encounters. Ellana had refrained from visiting the shop since that day of her strange apology. Her hanging around would just get in the way of things and bother Solas and Dorian. That pesky Dalish who always lurked around was not a reputation she wanted. She wouldn’t even peek to see if he was there. Not often, at least.

Ellana added his number to her phone under  _Solas_ and sighed. All this panic over a guy she didn’t even know the last name of. She remained in her kitchen, eating some Antivan takeout for dinner. Then her phone rang again, and she almost jumped out the window. But it was only her mother.

“Hi, Mamae,” she sighed. She shoveled another mouthful of food into her mouth.

“ _Ellana_?” the woman said, her voice smothered in sarcasm. “Is that really you? You’re not too busy with your fancy city life to talk to your poor mother?”

Ellana exhaled. “Of course, Mamae. I’m sorry I haven’t been calling lately. Work has kept me pretty occupied.” Among other things.

“I wish I could say the same.” Her mother sighed over the phone. “Work was actually what I was calling about. Evanuris closed the Marcher farm this week.”

Ellana choked on her dinner. “What?!” she coughed.

“Your brother and I lost our jobs, and we don’t know when we’ll find another...”

“Are you serious, Mamae? How?!” Hadn’t the farm been doing fine? Her brother always brushed off any rumors of closure, ensuring they were false.

“It wasn’t a huge surprise,” her mother murmured. She sounded like the epitome of resignation. “You’ve heard all the news lately. It’s only been downhill since that Arlathan lab incident.”

This was bad. Ellana’s family had been working at Evanuris farms for generations. The farm had saved her clan by giving them work when no one else would. But ever since that debacle with the genetically modified seeds some years ago... Ellana paced around her kitchen and ran her fingers through her hair. “What are we going to do?” she cried. “Mahanon was lucky to even have that job!”

“We’ll look for new jobs. Don’t worry, Ellana. It’s not the end of the world.” Her mother hesitated on the phone. “But I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to send more money every month. I know it’s been tough, but can you spare anymore?”

Her mother was a proud woman and never one to beg for charity, but this was why Ellana had taken her Haven job in the first place. This was the reason she had studied so diligently, interviewed at countless companies, and became the first Lavellan to work outside the farm. Her family needed her support.

Ellana was shaking. How would her mother and brother recover? What would the rest of Clan Lavellan do? Without the Marcher farm, it would be impossible to employ all those people. Where would they go?

“Of course,” Ellana reassured. “How much do you need?” She had been giving them a good chunk of her paychecks, but not all of her extra money.

After the phone call, Ellana spent the rest of the night calculating her budget. No more buying extra donuts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mamae = mom
> 
> Sorry about the delay! Real life punched me in the face these past few days, but we should now be returning to our regularly scheduled chapters ;)
> 
> Also, Deedylovescake drew some [Baker!Solas](http://deedala.tumblr.com/post/127038550074/ok-justyou-had-me-at-donuts-f) and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm dead.


	9. Chapter 9

Dorian smiled when Ellana popped her head through the entrance. He beckoned her towards the counter, and raised a silencing finger to his lips.

“Lovely to see you again, Ellana,” he whispered as she approached. “I have an idea.” He stole a glance through the trays of donuts beside him. “Why don’t you go around to the kitchen and surprise Solas?”

Ellana’s eyes widened in alarm. “Ah, no...” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sure he’s busy back there. I wouldn’t want to—”

“Don’t be silly,” he cut off. Dorian glimpsed to the side again. “He’s had an awful morning,” he smiled, crossing his arms. “You are just what he needs.”

Her face burned as she shook her head even harder, hair flying around her face in loose tendrils. “No,” Ellana declared, “I would just bother him.”

“ _Ellana_.  _Go_ ,” Dorian commanded with all the sternness of a disapproving friend. He slanted away from her again. “You can test his latest concoction back there.” He raised a brow at her and grinned. “That way, he wouldn’t need to walk it over.”

She swallowed. He had a point. If it made it  _easier_  for him...

Ellana left the shop. She had decided this morning to stop by for the flavor Solas suggested she taste, but dreaded telling him she would no longer be buying his donuts. Of course, she didn’t  _have_  to inform him, but there was still that obligation tingling inside her chest.

Ellana had never been to the kitchen before, but she still knew how to get there. She traversed her way around the stony building, careful to leave a good distance between her and the dumpster before gingerly rapping her knuckles on the door.

It took a minute before Solas lurched it open. His brow was furrowed in aggravation before softening as he regarded her. “Ellana?” He blinked at her in surprise, his frown transforming into a smile.

“Uh, hi,” she mumbled. “I—well,  _Dorian_  told me that I should come back here? To test the new flavor?” She swayed back and forth on her feet and busied her gaze with the room behind him.

“Oh—yes,” Solas said, scratching the back of his neck. “I actually have not brought it with me today. I had no chance to make it.”

“I understand...” Ellana nodded. A rush of relief relaxed her muscles as she backed away. “I’ll just be going, so. You seem pretty busy and all.”

“Ah, no!” Solas shuffled out after her. “I didn’t”—he took a breath—“Please, come in. I can give you a tour.” His arm held the door open for her.

“Okay,” she wavered before following him. This was so awkward. How was she supposed to act around him, a person who was (maybe) interested in her but she had probably ruined it forever with? 

The kitchen was bright with fluorescent lighting, reflecting off every surface like a chrome clinic. Ellana noticed the fried doughy smell was even stronger here, and the temperature a few degrees warmer. It was far larger than she expected it to be. At least the entire size of the storefront, if not more.

Solas pointed to various equipment around the room and explained what each was used for. He acted stiff at first, giving short, technical descriptions of different objects. But as Ellana asked him further questions or inferred which donuts he made with such instruments, he grew more excited to exhibit his workplace. His eyes gleamed with affection as he recounted his first time using the fryer, and when he demonstrated how the flavors of his herbs were extracted. It eased her nerves to see him so happy and comfortable.

“And this is where we glaze.” Solas gestured to some racks on a table and halted, concluding his tour.

“Thank you for showing me all this,” Ellana smiled. She trailed a finger along the table, examining a few rows of Spindleweed Crunches atop it. “When did you make your first donut, anyway?”

Solas let out a small chuckle. “I cannot actually recall.” He smiled and relaxed against the same table the donuts were on. “My family had often baked cakes, but my mother was particularly skilled with a fryer. She taught me my first recipe.”

“Must have been fun,” Ellana commented. She pictured a younger Solas helping his mother sprinkle the donuts. The mention of his mother brought thoughts of her own family, and a worried pang fell in her gut. She tried to find distraction with another question. “Is she still... baking?”

“No,” he answered in a neutral tone. “She passed away some time ago.”

Ellana nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that.” This was the first time Solas had ever spoken of his family. Perhaps it was a difficult subject for him to discuss.

“I am fine,” he assured, edging a little nearer along the table. “It has been a long time, and death is a natural part of life.”

Ellana nodded again, and their conversation fell silent. She observed the finished donuts, admiring the perfect shine of glaze on each one. She had almost forgotten what she came here to do from his tour and their talk. She should just tell him already. “I have some... personal things going on, and I don’t think I can stop by anymore,” she murmured.

“Is everything all right?” Solas worried.

Ellana exhaled, and slowly met his gaze. “I can’t really spend the money on extra... treats right now.” _Creators, this is embarrassing to say_. Why did she even bring it up?

“With all you’ve helped me with, you should not be charged at all.”

“No, I can’t do that,” she said, shaking her head.

“Ellana, please. If you would like anything, I would be happy to give it to you, free of charge.” Solas took another step closer. “It would be the least I could do.”

“Thank you. Really, thank you, but I don’t think I could do that,” Ellana said. She pushed some hair behind an ear, but ended up twisting her finger into the strands instead. “You deserve to be paid. I mean, you work so hard...”

“Then will you no longer visit either?”

“Ah, well...” Ellana couldn’t look at him, so she stared at the ground instead as she said,  “I mean, I think I take up enough of your time, so...” Her peripheral caught him moving closer.

“I disagree.” Solas stood only a breath away, his fingers skimming along the table they leaned against. His hand inched towards hers and grazed the tip of her index finger.

 _What is he doing?_ Somehow Ellana had fallen into another precarious situation. His finger lifted to stroke along her own, and the sudden caress hitched her breath. His touch was slow and gentle, but it still sent a shiver along her nerves.

“I should...” She tried to say something,  _anything_ , but she forgot the words when she met his gaze. His eyes wandered down her face before reaching hers again. He looked so serious, every hint of a smile vanished.

The air became heavy as a silence stretched between them, yet Solas continued to shift closer. He completely interlaced his hand with hers, sliding their fingers together and drawing her towards him. Her heart raced at record-high speeds. He was so close, and Ellana could actually smell the light scent of cinnamon on him. She swallowed, feeling nervous and excited all at once.

His eyes were dark like pools of some unknown agenda. Except she did know. She knew it perfectly well because she wanted the same thing. She wanted to kiss him. And there was no foggy, alcohol-induced haze to blame it on this time. This was full and conscious desire.

As she leaned closer, her eyes fell shut with instinctive anticipation. She felt him press against her, felt his warm breath as she inched forward. It was all too soon and yet couldn’t come fast enough.

“Solas, I  _really_  need those Embrium Chocolates,” Dorian called from the shop counter.

Ellana jumped back, eyes flashing open and ripping her hand away. What was she doing? What was _happening_?

“You need to work,” she stammered as she backed away through the door. “I’ve kept you too long.”

His eyes flickered into awareness. “Ah—Ellana, wait!” he said, reaching out with a hand, but she was too far to touch.

She froze from his call, her entire body feeling hot and quaky. This was all too much.

Solas took a slow breath before clearing his throat and straightening himself. “Dorian suggested having a grand opening party,” he began. “With the new floors, it seemed somewhat appropriate as we never had one in the first place.” He twiddled his fingers together. “You are welcome to come, if you’d like,” he offered.

The change of subject was surprising but so very relieving. Ellana gave a taut smile. “Sounds fun. Just text me the details, okay?”  _I need to escape_.

“I will,” Solas nodded. He hesitated, lips parting to say more. “And... if you ever wish to stop by for discussion, I would enjoy talking. With or without”—he paused—“donuts.”

Ellana blushed as she said goodbye, and immediately turned on her heel. It was only after Doughnut Rebel was safely out of sight that she stopped to breathe. How would she ever be able to concentrate at work today?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goooood times ;)
> 
> Also, wtf did I write and I'm sorry.


	10. Chapter 10

“I already bought my bus ticket, and I’m coming to Haven.”

“What? Why?” Ellana asked, frustrated by her brother’s brash decisions. It was too early in the morning his foolishness.

“I need to get out of the Free Marches,” Mahanon’s voice crackled through the phone. “I need to get a big city job like you.”

Ellana rolled her eyes as she pulled a carton of milk from the fridge. “Haven is hardly a ‘big city’,” she scoffed. “And why come all the way here? You should look in Wycome or Starkhaven.”

Her brother clucked his tongue. “Come  _on_ , Ellana. You know every other Lavellan is going to look in those places first. Nobody’s looking in Ferelden because nobody wants to relocate.”

“Except you apparently,” she mumbled, switching her cell phone to her other ear. She poured some milk over her cereal.

“I think Mamae could use the break from me, anyway,” he said, a bit quieter. “She’s stressed enough as it is.”

Ellana’s brow furrowed at the mention of their mother. Mahanon probably annoyed her to no end since there wasn’t work to busy his days. The two still lived in the same aravel together, and that meant a whole lot of mother-son bickering time.

“So when are you coming?” Ellana sighed.

“ _This_ ”—he paused for a (not so) dramatic effect—“Friday!”

“Ugh.”

Their conversation soon ended with promises of Ellana picking him up from the bus station at the correct time. Mahanon had never visited her since she moved (no one had, in fact), so he would find plenty of entertainment in the novelty of a new city. She hoped her couch would suffice for however long his stay ended up being. Although, if it somehow influenced him to leave earlier, she certainly wouldn't object...

Ellana peered out the window towards her beloved local donut shop as she finished her breakfast. Three days had passed since she’d last stepped in Doughnut Rebel. The thought of facing Solas after nearly kissing him left her stomach in a fluttering, knotted mess, and she hadn't the courage to stop by again.

It didn’t help that the only communication she’d received from him since was a short, impersonal text describing the time of the forthcoming party. He didn’t even respond to her cute emoji.

The man was a serious puzzle. Did he just completely forget about Ellana whenever she wasn’t there eating donuts? Why wouldn’t he ever try to contact her to hang out? He seemed so interested when they were together, and yet her phone remained silent.

Although, she hadn’t tried to call him either. But Ellana still teetered on the fence about him, anyway (okay, not really). If anything, _he_ should make the first move. Ellana attempting to ask him out was doomed to failure. Yes, Solas needed to do it.

Unless he wasn’t because she was Dalish. And she was just some dark, dirty fling that he didn’t want anyone to know of, and only kept around for some fun behind closed shop doors (and to taste-test flavors).

_No_ , she stopped herself.  _He’s not like that_.

Ellana scooped up the last bit of cereal into her mouth and headed off to work.

 

* * *

 

With her brother coming to town, Ellana had a whole other mess of problems to fuss over. Mahanon was only two years younger than her, but she swore there was a decade between them. He had the attention span of a baby and the work ethic of a teenager, and she would need to babysit him the entire time he visited.  _Sigh._

It would be two days until Mahanon arrived, and Ellana had the beneficial idea to find as many job openings as possible for him. If he continuously interviewed, he would at least be occupied.

“Are there any entry-level positions open right now?”

Her coworker Josephine hummed, tapping her pen against her chin. “I do know of a senior engineering position, but of course, that is not entry-level. Why do you ask?”

Ellana sighed. “My brother needs a job.”

“Ah,” Josephine said. “I will keep an eye out for you.”

It would be hard to find him anything, let alone a place that would hire an elf. Although no company explicitly said it, many were wary of hiring elves. Especially Dalish. Her people were notorious for having little education and getting mixed up with crime, and Ellana was lucky this Inquisition company had given her a chance. Sure, her extensive knowledge of coding languages and impressive array of projects helped, but if a human applied with half as much? Hired in an instant.

Ellana sauntered back to her desk in defeat. At least her family had her to rely on. How many other Evanuris farms were closing and leaving Dalish out of work? She feared searching the internet for answers. It would depress her, and it wasn’t like she could help them, anyway.

But perhaps she could look forward to some more Dalish moving to Haven. Who knows? Maybe she would find an elf willing to publicly date her. If only.

 

* * *

 

As Ellana ambled her way home from work that evening, she noticed Doughnut Rebel was still open. The lights were all on, and the door propped and welcoming.  _How strange_. Had they ever been open this late before?

She should just go in there and talk to him. Or at least ask for more details about the party. Ellana wondered if she could bring a friend (which she desperately needed for moral support), or what the dress code would be. Her mind briefly trailed to picturing Solas in a suit.  _Mmm._

Yes, this was crucial information to know. So she walked the familiar steps through the door, ignoring the discomfort of her nervous, swirling stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh, okay, sorry for the delayed short chapter. Weekends are super busy for me, sooo just fair warning for the future ;)
> 
> Maizzy made some awesome [Doughnut Rebel fanart](http://maizzycakes.tumblr.com/post/127529073727/afterinquisition-local-baker-stays-up-late) as well as wrote a [one-shot](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4650261) to go with it!!! It's great, and y'all have to see and read it!!


	11. Chapter 11

The setting sun cast the shop in amber hues, making its stone walls feel tired and lonely. Ellana froze just outside the doorway when she saw Solas. Apparently, he had joined Dorian in the storefront, much to shy Ellana’s dismay. Of course, she  _wanted_  to see him, but the butterflies in her belly fluttered at chaotic speeds nonetheless.

Solas was editing their menu, erasing one flavor and writing another with captivating grace. Ellana admired the perfect straightness of his spine as his arm dipped to finish the curl of an  _M_. He was so  _tall_. By far the tallest elf she had ever...  _befriended_.

“I’m telling you, Solas, Deep Mushroom will turn people away,” Dorian huffed from behind the counter. “You are going too far this time.”

“Need I remind you the same was said for Spindleweed?” Solas quipped, capping his marker.

Dorian noticed Ellana standing in the entrance first and tilted his head curiously in her direction. “Look who it is,” he smiled, resting his chin on an elbow beside the cash register.

Solas stiffened at the announcement and slowly turned his head towards Ellana. “Hello,” he greeted. She noticed how rosy his cheeks were, although his expression was perfectly composed.  _Hmm_.

“You guys are open late today,” Ellana observed, stepping further inside. “I don’t think I’ve ever come home from work to see it still open.”

Dorian hummed in agreement. “It’s been a slow day.” He sighed and waved to the trays of donuts next to him. “We have far more leftovers than usual.”

“How are you?” Solas interjected towards Ellana, filling the air with awkwardness from the abrupt shift in conversation.

Dorian coughed, and the noise flushed Solas’ face even redder. Ellana averted her eyes to the floor, feeling her own skin burn as she remembered the last time she saw Solas.

“Yes, Ellana, how have you been?” Dorian smirked. “We’ve all  _missed_  you so very much.”

“I’m fine... okay... Busy, you know...” she rambled, examining the new flooring. Why had she come here, again? Was it only to get into embarrassing situations?

“I wish I knew the feeling,” Dorian said, using tongs to pluck donuts from the metal racks into some pink boxes. “It’s been terribly inactive here since the remodel. I fear Haven has completely forgotten us.” He let out an exhale. “At this rate, I doubt anyone will come to our party. Solas, you have invited Ellana, yes?”

“Oh, yes—” Ellana sputtered.

“I did—” Solas began at the same time.

They both looked away, ears as hot as flames.

Dorian raised a brow, pausing his activity to glance between the two. “Good, then,” he continued. “Please, bring everyone you know.” The final donut was emptied from the racks.

Ellana swallowed. “Everyone?” An image of Mahanon humiliating her in front of Solas popped into her mind.  _Ugh_.

Dorian smiled. “Solas and I know hardly anyone in Haven. It would be nice to appear  _somewhat_  popular in this city.” He sighed, closing one of the pink boxes and setting down his tongs. “And you must invite Leliana and Cassandra.”

Ellana gave a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll do that.” At least now she knew she could bring her friends.

With his task now complete, Dorian gathered his belongings to leave. “Well, I’m off!” he said as he swung a jacket over his shoulder. He eyed the two elves. “Have a wonderful evening,” he grinned.

Ellana turned back to Solas as the Tevinter headed out the door. He stood with perfect, stiff posture near the menu, scrutinizing something outside and avoiding Ellana’s gaze. The room became silent as Dorian loped away from the shop, and suddenly Ellana felt  _quite_  alone with the elf. Should she just go home?

Without a word to her, Solas strode to the remaining donuts that Dorian had packaged away on the counter. The atmosphere felt thick with lingering memories of the last time they had been together. Neither of them had attempted to contact the other, and it seemed like both were also unwilling to address it.

Ellana faltered a moment on what to do. _Stay or go?_  If she left now, she could still... No. She would not cower away this time. Ellana held her chin high and walked over beside him. “What do you do with all the leftovers?” she wondered, leaning her side on the stone of the counter.

“Donate them, usually,” Solas answered as he closed a box of donuts. “I am bringing them to Crossroads now, if you would like to join me.”

_Join him_. Like a date... Or maybe not? He had said it so casually. Perhaps it was closer to an errand. Running errands felt comfortable and safe, though, and Ellana could breathe if she knew (or pretended) it was little more than that. They would be going as friends, which was fine and peril-free. Solas probably got lonely, like she did, and company was always welcome. And if more happened, well...

They set off.

The place called Crossroads was a group home for foster youth. Ellana had never been there, but she’d visited others of a similar kind. Many Dalish kids ended up in foster care.

It was located on the other side of town, so they drove Solas’ car to get there. Three Doughnut Rebel boxes sat in the backseat as the two elves occupied the front, awkwardly staring ahead of them without conversation. The confined space and silent radio only exemplified their unspoken feelings as they traveled through Haven. Unless, of course, he felt nothing towards her and had invited her out of pity or something.  _Sigh_.

“The Chocolate Crystal Graces are very popular,” Solas murmured as several restaurants passed by. “They consistently sell out first.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Ellana remarked. She relaxed into her seat at the familiar topic of conversation. “The chocolate is so rich, but the Crystal Grace is surprisingly refreshing. It’s a unique combo.” She smiled and peered up at him. “Your creativity is impressive.”

Solas kept his eyes on the road as he drove, but she noticed how his ears went pink. “I am always amazed by how accurately you describe my work.”

His bewilderment surprised her and she laughed. “I just say what I taste.”

“You have a very developed palate, then.”

Ellana hummed contemplatively. “No one’s ever told me that before. I wonder if it’s true.”

“It must be,” Solas asserted. “You pick out flavors that even Dorian misses.” His eyes were still on the road, but she saw how his neck and cheeks were also pink now.

Ellana smiled, her heart beating much quicker. “Maybe it’s my farming background,” she said, staring out the window again.

Solas didn’t respond. Should she not have mentioned her farm life? Did her Dalish upbringing make him uncomfortable?

Before she could worry over it more, they arrived at Crossroads. Solas shut off the engine of his car, and the two walked to the entrance carrying their boxed confections.

The building looked like an old school, almost, but everything was grey inside. The floors, the walls, the ceiling, but perhaps it was the evening light that colored it that way. And it was cold, too.

“Oh, hey, Chuckles,” a dwarven man greeted, obviously surprised. He stopped midway to wherever he had been headed.

“Varric,” Solas acknowledged. “I have some more donations for you.”

“Oh, really? The kids will love that.” The man called Varric accepted the cardboard boxes from him. “Thanks, Chuckles.”

“Is Cole still here?”

"Sure is," Varric grinned. “You could bring him a donut if you want to.”

Solas smiled at that and took one of the pink boxes from him. He lead Ellana to a room filled with children and teens, a few playing and some fighting. Memories flooded her mind of childhood friends being sent away to homes like these. Pinkie promises that they'd be friends forever and she'd visit every week. What was that one elf's name? Ellana couldn't even remember.

The teenager called Cole was by himself, though, sitting in a corner away from the rest.

“Hello, Cole,” Solas said. “I have a donut for you.” He offered him one, and Ellana recognized it as the Chocolate Crystal Grace flavor they had discussed in the car.

Cole blinked at the both of them, his eyes slowly shifting between the two. He accepted the confection and took a bite. “It’s good,” he said, mouth still full. “It reminds me of her.”

Solas said nothing of his observation, looking away at something else in the room instead.

Ellana squatted to the boy’s level. “Hi, Cole! I’m Ellana, nice to meet you!” She stuck out her hand, and he hesitated to shake it. His hands were sticky, but she ignored it and smiled.

“I know about you,” Cole said, and his eyes drifted upwards to Solas.

“You do?” Ellana was surprised, but too timid to also look up at the elf. Did he talk about her? She kept her eyes on the boy.

“You inspire him.”

_Oh_. This must be about the donut. Ellana recalled the letter Solas had left her, claiming she had inspired him to create Chocolate Crystal Grace. It was a sweet sentiment, but highly doubtful. If fact, Ellana was positive he had only said that as a peace offering when she didn’t show up for a week. Who could blame him? It had worked, after all.

“She doesn’t believe it,” Cole said to Solas. “You should be more honest.”

“I am always honest,” Solas replied.

“Not as much as you should be.”

Ellana was still squatting on the floor and wouldn’t look up at Solas, so she didn’t see his expression. But she didn’t want to, anyway. This all was getting a little too uncomfortable for her uneasy stomach.

“What’s this?” an elf exclaimed as she bounded towards them. “More donuts? Why didn’t you tell me!” She ripped open the box in Solas’ hands, cramming the first donut she could into her mouth. “Why’d you bring another elf?” she grumbled while chewing.

Solas sighed. “Ellana, this is Sera.”

Ellana smiled at the girl, standing up again. Solas must come to Crossroads often to know the children here so well. How surprising... and encouraging. _  
_

“Why do you always give him the donuts first?” Sera griped, taking another donut when she’d finished the first. “He’s the one who’s almost out of here! It’s not fair!” She shoved another mouthful in. “I’m months away.”

A few others started flocking towards their donuts, so Solas and Ellana left the teens to themselves. They said some short goodbyes and returned to his car. This errand had revealed a whole new side of Solas to her. He obviously had some ongoing relationship with these foster kids that Ellana was unaware of. And he was out with her in public and introducing Ellana to acquaintances without shame. These were all excellent signs. He definitely wasn’t like the others. No, Solas was different. Such a generous person had to be accepting of all people, including a Dalish like her.

She allowed herself the indulgent thought that maybe, just maybe, it might actually work out this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, hello there, rogues!


	12. Chapter 12

“He becomes a legalized adult next week,” Solas explained during the car ride back. “I worry for his... adjustment.”

Ellana nodded. Cole did seem a little strange, although Ellana hadn't met many human teenagers before, and perhaps his behavior was common.

“Have you known him for a while?” she asked, hoping not to sound rude.

Solas contemplated a moment. “I suppose longer than anyone else in Haven.”

“Why don’t you give him a job in Doughnut Rebel?” she suggested. At least he would have an income and work with someone he knew.

Solas smiled. “Perhaps I will.” He then took one of his hands from the steering wheel, moving it closer to her seat. Her heart leapt at the approaching limb. Was he going to reach for her own hand? She watched from her peripheral as it hesitated in the air before finally resting on the gear stick instead.

Oh, how Ellana wished to touch him. Hold his hand which was so near to her now. It was just within reach, and she could even feel his warmth radiating off those fingers. She remembered the way they felt when their hands had linked once upon a time. His hand had fit so perfectly with hers.

Her eyes trailed from his hand up his arm. Solas always wore long sleeves. She had yet to see his bare arms, but sometimes his shirts were tight enough to imagine the firmness of his muscles. They must be toned by how often he worked in his kitchen. Always kneading dough...

Ellana pictured him working at a table, and for some reason he was shirtless. Kneading dough shirtless... And then her hands would be on those arms, she would lean in, and—

No. She had to stop. Such thoughts would make her predicament even messier than it already was. Instead, she laced her own fingers together and folded them in her lap. It wouldn’t be long until she was home, anyway. Maybe then her wandering mind would relax.

Haven wasn’t a large enough city for the drive back to Doughnut Rebel to be long. The two soon pulled up beside it, and Ellana felt disappointment and relief all at once as she said goodbye and placed her hand on the car’s door handle.

“Dinner,” Solas said abruptly.

_Dinner_. Ellana didn’t know if it was a question or a declaration. “Ah, excuse me?” She turned back to him with a raised brow and a thumping heart.

“Apologies,” Solas replied, taking a slow breath. “I meant, would you like to have dinner?”

She had never seen him so flustered and tense. His fingers gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, and he avoided her gaze for the road ahead instead.

Ellana swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. “Okay,” she agreed, sounding more reluctant than was polite. Her face heated from the concession, but he turned to her and smiled, which calmed her considerably. She had thought the night was over, but now her nerves were sizzling with panic. This errand had now fallen into date territory.

She was doomed to embarrass herself.

As it was an impromptu plan, Solas suggested they walk through the neighborhood and see what restaurants they found. The night air was chilly, but the streets felt warm, illuminated with little bulbs strung from tree to tree. This stroll through Haven was rather romantic, actually, but awkward between two elves who had questionable feelings for each other.

_He did try to kiss me once_ , Ellana reminded herself. But what if she had only imagined it? It was too dangerous to risk believing he had tried if there was the chance he had _not_.

But after only walking a block, Ellana noticed how close Solas strode beside her, and her heart raced to an uncontrollable rhythm. Was he the one who moved nearer or was it her? She could feel the heat from his body inviting her in. He was so warm and pleasant to be next to, and she found herself slowly falling in step closer with him.

His proximity was so distracting that Ellana had a hard time focusing on anything else. The two elves had ceased all conversation as well, which only magnified her fixation on the short distance between them. She had to divert herself.

“My brother will love your donuts.”

“Pardon?” he asked as if awoken from a reverie.

Ellana let out a stuttered laugh. “I mean, my brother is visiting soon, and I’m sure he’ll love Doughnut Rebel.” Creators, why did she even open her mouth? She should be banned from making such lame conversation ever again. From making any conversation at all, really.

“Oh,” Solas replied. “Then I hope they do not disappoint.”

Their elbows touched then, and her breath hitched from the warmth. They were actually touching now, and her mind became a frenzy unable to think of anything but that elbow. It was just like the knee bump from an eternity ago, the one that never moved. His arm remained in contact with hers this time, too, holding itself beside her with electrifying firmness. And then his fingers brushed her hand, and then—

He weaved their hands together.

His hand was so gentle and smooth as each finger curled between hers, wonderful and warm. Apparently, she had wanted this more than she thought. Ellana bit her lip to keep from smiling, but the elation from it all nearly made her burst. This was the unmistakeable indication of romantic interest. The mark of a couple.

Of course, they weren’t  _really_  a couple, but the feelings were there nonetheless. Or at least it seemed that way.

The mood between them shifted instantly, like a long held-in breath finally released. Tension melted away and buzzed between their hands. Her giddiness from it all had her skipping inside.

She tentatively peeked at Solas beside her, and he was smiling just as impishly as she felt. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to kiss him. But she was also too terrified to ever initiate such bold actions. Holding hands was enough. For now.

“Where would you like to eat?” he asked quietly, and she could tell from the lilt in his tone that he was purposely keeping his voice cool and collected.

She didn’t know, didn’t care. They could just eat donuts and she would be happy.

But Ellana considered the shops around them as that socially normal and recognized a restaurant nearby. “Oh, that’s a great Rivaini place,” she chimed. “And they source from Evanuris, too!”

Solas raised a brow. “Evanuris? Why would we—oh. Of course. You are Dalish.”

Ellana halted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  _No_. It couldn’t be happening again, could it? No, Solas was different.

He sighed. “Only the Dalish would support such a power-hungry establishment.” He sounded almost accusatory.

“ _Power_ -hungry?” Ellana was shocked. How many Dalish would be out of work if not for Evanuris farms? They had saved her clan, her people! He had to be mistaken. Misinformed.

“You shouldn’t believe all that bad press about them,” she explained. “I grew up on their farms, I would know.”

Solas rolled his eyes. “Do not believe what everyone tells you, Ellana. Especially a corporation like Evanuris.” His tone was so bitter and cold... as if she had offended him!

She felt heat rising to her face as her blood began to boil with anger. She had known Evanuris all her life. Lived by their paychecks and worked in their fields. How could a city elf even dare to slander them when he had nowhere near her intimate experience? Even if it was Solas, who was far more knowledgeable than most ( _supposedly_ ).

“Oh, and you would know?” Ellana affronted. “Because you’ve backpacked everywhere and eaten any weed you could find?” She ripped her hand away from his and crossed her arms in indignation. “You think you’re so superior,” she muttered.

Solas’ brow furrowed with anger. Or maybe concern, but at this point, she preferred anger. “Organic, sustainably-grown food is far—” he started.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Ellana interrupted, holding up a hand to silence him. “People like you are the reason my clan is starving without jobs. Evanuris is the only thing that’s ever helped my family!”

“Ellana,” he said with a slow exhale. “They have oppressed your people with low wages by taking advantage of the difficult situation the Dalish are in.” He narrowed his eyes. “How can you not see that?”

She was shaking. Ellana had been so wrong about him. He may not feel ashamed to be seen with her, but he had no respect for her people— _their_  people. He was a true city elf after all, and silly Ellana had trusted the wrong person again.  _I'm so stupid_.

“I can’t do this.” She turned away from him and bolted back to her apartment without looking back. Luckily, her building was only a few blocks away, and she reached it just as the hot tears were fresh in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Looks like the romance has been delayed again. Clumsy me. :P
> 
> Also, Tales2TellU actually made [Cinnamon Rashvine](http://bluegirlbooks.tumblr.com/post/127985682659/mmmmwould-you-believe-it-tasted-as-good-as-it)!!! My drool knows no limit for such glory! :F


	13. Chapter 13

She made a mistake at work. A broken line of code that messed up all the rest. Leliana was checking over it, so it wasn’t a complete disaster, but she still felt disappointed in herself. An amateur’s mistake. One of the errors the interns did and everyone patted their backs for, saying “It’s okay, everyone does this in the beginning.” But Ellana wasn’t an intern, nor was she a beginner.

And Leliana sensed something wrong because of it. “Are you all right, Ellana?”

Technically yes. But definitely not. Ever since her argument with Solas, Ellana was finding it challenging to concentrate. She chided herself for fretting so much over a man she hardly knew. She should not care what a city elf thought of the Dalish. Ellana knew all too well what they believed. But she had expected him to be different, and this was now the third time since moving here that she had been devastated.

“I’m fine,” she answered, concentrating on her keyboard. Dust had collected between each key, and it could really use a vacuum.

Leliana was not convinced. She stood there a few moments, awaiting a proper reply from the elf.

But Ellana kept her lips shut and tapped away at the smooth plastic buttons instead until her friend surrendered. She wasn’t ready to divulge yet. The whole situation felt nearly... embarrassing. Declaring she would never date a city elf again, then soon after going on a (semi-)date with Solas, and only to find out he was just like all the other jerks out there? She would let it simmer for a while until it didn’t ache her chest so much. Although, it had already been a week. That should have been plenty of time to recover from one stupid semi-date.

Solas had tried to called her, but she ignored it and let him go to voicemail. He did not leave a message, but he did send her one text:  _Can we talk?_

The answer was no.

 

* * *

 

“Lan-Lan!” Mahanon shouted the minute he stepped off the bus.

Ellana covered her face as a self-conscious heat crawled over her cheeks and up to her forehead.  _He is going to ruin my life_. Or what little she had of a life, anyway. Her brother sprung over and wrapped his arms around Ellana in a tight embrace, before pulling away to properly scrutinize her.

“You look so...  _human_ ,” Mahanon observed with a raised brow. “What’s with your clothing?”

Ellana took a deep breath, wishing that her brother would speak at a normal volume for once. “Just because I’ve cleaned up my wardrobe a bit for work, does  _not_  mean I look like a human,” she argued, punctuating the claim with an exasperated sigh.

Mahanon shook his head. “Is this how Fereldans dress?” he said, ignoring her previous statement. “Well, whatever. It’s good to see you, Lanny.”

She fantasized punching him for the briefest moment. “Do  _not_  call me ‘Lan-Lan’ or ‘Lanny’!” she warned. “Just Ellana, okay? No more stupid nicknames.” She wanted to appear somewhat dignified in this city where practically every odd was stacked against her.

He arched a brow and then shrugged. “Okay, sure, whatever.”

The siblings took a cab back to her apartment since Ellana did not own a car. Mahanon had brought an alarming amount of luggage. She had no idea how long he was planning to stay, and three large bags could only indicate a lengthy trip.  _Oh, gods_. He wasn’t  _moving in_  with her, was he?

Mahanon seemed absolutely ecstatic to be in Haven, though. “And  _everyone_ , I mean,  _everyone_  is so jealous that I’m here,” he proclaimed. “Sowen was all, ‘Hey, hook me up, falon’! And I was like, ‘Psh, like  _you_  could make it in Ferelden’.”

Her eyes wouldn’t stop rolling the entire ride. Make it in Ferelden? He hadn’t even made it to her apartment yet, let alone found a job! And really, the only title she pictured him achieving would be Most Annoying Brother. And she had deemed him that honor long ago.

Mahanon was thoroughly impressed by her little abode, which did ease some of her anxiety by swelling her pride. Yes, she did like her place. It felt quaint with its yellow walls and wooden furniture. Within minutes, her brother had swept the apartment, opening windows and checking out the bathroom. The only part that disappointed him was the refrigerator.

“Seriously? No beer?” he accused with a knitted brow.

Ellana shrugged. “It’s not like I have anyone to drink with.” Her mind flashed to Solas for an instant before she rightly shoved the thought away.

Mahanon beamed a devious grin. “Well,  _that’s_  different now.”

Ellana imparted her spare keys to Mahanon with reasonable hesitation. Every member of their clan knew of his irresponsible history. She felt certain he would lose them, but wouldn’t allow him any excuse to stay in the house all day.

They discussed his plans, which he brushed off immediately. He would “wing it,” and his considerable confidence in this plan was enough to make her queasy.  _He’s never going to leave_.

“Oh yeah, Mamae told me to tell you that her friend found her a job or something, and that you don’t have to worry, blah blah blah,” he babbled, sitting in a chair in the kitchen with his (gross) feet propped on her table.

“Wait, what?” Ellana perked up with interest. “Mamae found a job?”

Mahanon hummed with affirmation. “Yeah, something in a shop, I think.”

Ellana sighed a relief. “I’m so glad,” she said. “I was worried.” If only she didn’t have her brother to worry about. Among all the other things.

 

* * *

 

Another tiring day at work, another full day of  _not_  speaking to a certain someone, and another evening of having to come home to her freeloading brother.

Ellana sighed, taking off her bag and stretching as she stepped through the threshold of her home. Mahanon greeted her from a sofa, where he was clicking away on his laptop. She gave an unenthusiastic wave and ducked into the kitchen, looking forward to a nice, soothing glass of water.

Until she saw a notorious pink box on her kitchen table and froze.

“Mahanon!” she yelled, although it was unnecessary since the size of her apartment was no bigger than a room. “Where did these come from?” she questioned. Ellana panicked from seeing the familiar Doughnut Rebel logo stamped on its top. It was like an infiltrator had entered the vicinity, and she was completely on defense.

“Oh, that?” Mahanon said, sidling up to her side. “Yeah, I got those today. They’re weird, though. I didn’t even want any, what with all the plants and stuff in them.”

“Then  _why_  is there an entire box here?” she asked through clenched teeth. Wasn’t he supposed to be  _saving_  money?

Mahanon crossed his arms. “I should be asking  _you_  that.”

“What do you mean?”

“The guy working there asked if I was your brother. Then he gave me this whole box for free, even though I only ordered one.” Mahanon leaned against a wall, arms still folded. “Now isn’t that strange?” he smirked.

Ellana swallowed, but remained quiet.

“Seems like big ‘frugal’ sis has been chomping down on one too many donuts in my absence, huh?” He laughed and shook his head. “No wonder why you look human. You’ve gotten  _chubby_.”

Ellana hit him. “Shut up,” she said, slapping his arm again for good measure. “Who gave you these, anyway? What did he look like?” Her mind imagined a bald elf handing over the box with remorseful eyes, begging her brother to convince Ellana to take him back. Sometimes she had a vindictive imagination.

“That’s the weirdest part!” Mahanon exclaimed. “It was a  _human_  from  _Tevinter_!” He laughed in disbelief. “And he just  _gave_  them to me.”

A flood of relief washed over her. It had only been Dorian. Even though she was sure Solas would not say anything of their relationship to her brother, the chance that they might converse was still dreadful and terrifying.

But she did feel a little guilty about receiving a free dozen donuts.

“This Haven place is growing on me,” Mahanon smiled. “People are so open here, even to elves.”

Ellana pursed her lips on that one.  _I wish that were true_. Then maybe she wouldn’t be screening her calls.

“Oh, yeah, and he told me about the party they’re having on Saturday,” he grinned. “And guess what?  _We’re going_.” He whooped his way back to her couch. “Free booze equals Lavellans!”

Ellana glanced out her window in horror. The shop was there as usual, looking cute and inviting and Dalish-prejudiced, even though it had seemed so cultured. She had almost (not really) forgotten about that grand opening party.  _I am so screwed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those darn siblings, eh?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during the last chapter, but from Dorian's and Solas' point of view.

“Solas, you’ve been horribly quiet all morning. What is it?”

“I am fine,” he answered from the kitchen.

Dorian sighed. “Does this have anything to do with Ellana not visiting for a week? Between her absence and your silence, I’m finding this job ever less... stimulating.”

“Her brother is visiting. I am sure she is occupied.”

Dorian quirked a brow. “Oh? Her brother?” He wasn’t sure what Ellana’s brother would be like. Would he look like her? Act like her? He imagined a muscled version of Ellana crooning over their donuts and snorted aloud. _Hardly._

Solas once again glued his mouth shut, offering no other conversation nor distraction from the slow morning. They would probably be donating quite a few donuts this evening.

Dorian sighed, wishing he could take another break to at least breathe some fresh air, but unfortunately, his last one had been less than an hour ago. It seemed that Wednesdays were not very popular for donuts. Perhaps he should suggest they make fewer on these days from now on.

He poured himself another cup of coffee, even though he had already consumed his usual one this morning. The shop was empty, and no one was going to show at this party. He just knew it. It was time to accept reality.

Doughnut Rebel would become even less popular, fail as a business, and Dorian would need to move back to Minrathous in defeat. He shivered at the thought.

“We should make signs, Solas,” he called through the trays. “I see businesses do such things from time to time. Make little signs that they place in the streets. It draws passerbys inside. They’ll become intrigued.”

Solas only hummed in reply, and Dorian wanted to shake the elf into saying something.  _Anything_. If only moving those racks between them weren’t so troublesome.

Luckily, the door rang, and a customer strode in. Dorian straightened with his typical fixed smile.

 

* * *

 

Solas heard the bell and immediately checked if each flavor was properly stocked. They were, of course. They had been for the last hour.

Every possible task was completed in the kitchen. The dough prepped for tomorrow, the deep fryer scrubbed clean. Solas leaned against a bare wall, willing his hand not to delve into his apron’s pocket. But it seemed his fingers had a mind of their own.

Solas plucked his phone out and checked for any new messages. The vibrating notifications were often too soft, and it was possible he did not hear it ring.

But no. There were no missed calls or texts. He sighed, returning it to his apron.

It was unlikely that Ellana would ever speak to him again. He swallowed, and his stomach knotted with regret and misery. There must be a way to fix this.

Yet again, he had ruined another relationship due to his unfiltered beliefs. Why could he never keep his opinions to himself? He knew she was Dalish from the moment they met. Although, she hadn’t seemed very attached to her heritage.

In truth, Solas had encountered one too many Dalish in the past to esteem them. They were so ignorant of their oppressors, so stubborn to remain loyal to those who had wronged them. It was distressing.

But Ellana had seemed apart from such beliefs. She was independent from her clan, and had liberated herself from their herd-like mentality.

Perhaps he had only deluded himself.

Regardless, it did not change how he felt about her. Solas missed her. He missed the way she would listen to him with that small smile, and how her eyes would crinkle from even his most mundane recollections. Ellana knew more of his travels than even Dorian. No one cared to listen to him like she did. And he had driven her away with his thoughtless remarks.

Her effect on him was surprising. Ellana sparked inspiration in him, and Solas had created more flavors in the last few months than he had in years. All from her influence.

The phenomenon was astounding, really, and he knew exactly where it originated from. Her words. Something stirred within him whenever she spoke. Like her descriptions of his donuts brought more flavor to them than the confections themselves. Every review struck him with new ideas, and if it weren’t for the overwhelming desire to stay beside her and hear more of her enthralling voice, he would have likely ran to his kitchen to experiment.

Ellana was a wonder. And Dalish. Someone raised among the cultivated fields of ingredients he used each day. Raised among people who only flocked to where it felt safe and familiar, never questioning the regime which kept them. Did Ellana truly believe Evanuris beneficial to her people? She defended them like—

No. It was useless to dwell upon it. He had to move past their argument. He needed to apologize.

The customer was taking an inordinate amount of time to decide what to order. The situation reminded Solas of Ellana, and he smiled despite himself. She had been so indecisive her first time here. So hesitant.

A few more moments of lengthy silence, and Dorian spoke up, but his words were not what Solas expected.

“By any chance, do you have a sister named Ellana?” Dorian asked.

Solas’ breath froze. Her brother, here? Was  _she_  here? He pressed against the racks of donuts and peered through the trays. A male elf stood in the storefront, and Dalish, too, by the look of his vallaslin, but no sign of Ellana.

“Uh... yes? That’s really... weird... that you... knew that...” the man mumbled.

Dorian smiled. “Oh yes, she’s our favorite customer. Graces us with her presence all the time.”

“ _Really_?” the elf said with an arched brow.

This  _was_  Ellana’s brother. Perhaps she was too preoccupied with him to answer Solas’ calls... A flame of hope warmed the cold dread in his heart. This man could be the key to mending their relationship. A way to communicate with her in some small form.

“Any family member of Ellana’s deserves the same treatment,” Solas declared through the racks. “Give him a baker’s dozen, Dorian.”

Dorian raised both eyebrows at Solas, but did as he requested. “Right. Yes.” He quickly piled the donuts in a takeaway box with practiced dexterity and handed them to the man.

“And please come to our grand opening party this Saturday with your sister,” Dorian added. One corner of his mouth curled deviously. “There will be free alcohol,” he whispered, which Solas was perfectly able to hear. Another item to add to his shopping list, then.

“Oh—wow! Uh, thank you? This is... well, yeah,” her brother replied. “We’ll be there, and thank you for these, seriously.”

Solas exhaled a sigh a relief. If she came, he would have the chance to speak to her again and apologize. His commentary was unforgivable, and she did not deserve such ill treatment, especially from someone who cared for her. He needed to see Ellana, at least one final time, and make things right. This party could be his last hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder how many people in the world have actually fallen in love over donuts...
> 
> Also, errr, Solas POV???


	15. Chapter 15

Ellana had been standing in front of her closet for the past half hour, and judging from Mahanon’s obnoxious bangs on her door, he wanted to get to the party already. But she couldn’t decide what to wear. What outfit would be appropriate for a party hosted by a person she was ignoring yet still had lingering feelings for?

Obviously, she had to look good. And without looking like she tried too hard.

Ellana chose a yellow dress, which on several occasions had earned her compliments. It contoured to her curves in an flattering way that even Ellana couldn’t deny. This was the one.

“Um,” Mahanon faltered when he saw her. His eyes flew from her face to her toes and then back up again. “What kind of party is this? I thought it was just casual.”

“This is casual!” Ellana defended, waving a dismissive hand. She was determined to give off an air of “effortless chic” for the event.  _And_ _Solas has never seen me in a dress_ , she noted, although it was hardly important.

Mahanon frowned. “Well, whatever,” he brushed off. “We’re getting piss-drunk at this party, right?”

Ellana shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“So I’m going to this party with you where I don’t know anyone, just to get drunk by myself?” Mahanon let out an irritated exhale. “You owe me big, Lanny.”

She shushed him with a sharp breath. “Don’t call me that! I don’t want it to catch on here...” It was a childhood nickname that only brought back memories of mocking, and Ellana was desperate to shake it off.

“I promise I won’t say it again if you get drunk with me tonight,” Mahanon grinned and raised his brows.

Ellana rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll get drunk with you,” she lied. She couldn’t risk intoxication. Not with the guaranteed baker-presence and her tenuous resolve.

Mahanon cheered in success and gave his sister a high five.  _Idiot_.

The short walk across the street to Doughnut Rebel had her stomach doing backflips the entire time. A text from Cassandra confirmed her friend’s arrival with Leliana, and that helped a little. At least she would know plenty of people to keep her in conversation and away from Solas.

Ellana could hear the music booming across the road, but what surprised her more was the mass of people gathered outside the shop. She hadn’t expected many attendees, but there they were, holding drinks and mingling. Luckily, she saw no Solas. Yet.

As Ellana and her brother approached the crowd, she halted at the entrance. 

“Creators, this place is packed,” Mahanon commented.

People were crammed into Doughnut Rebel, vying for free donuts and bottles of booze. The Lavellans slid among the party-goers, some of whom Ellana could actually recognize. She saw some of the contractors from the shop’s renovations and also her friends from work. Ellana waved at Cassandra, who was standing next to Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine.

As her brother found them a decent spot near the window, she twisted her way to the front counter to grab them some drinks, and plucked a couple of donuts up with her other hand.

“Ellana, you came!” Dorian exclaimed. He was stationed alone on the other side of counter, but leaned over to murmur, “Please talk to Solas.  _Please_.” His gaze shifted quickly around the room. “He’s in the kitchen, avoiding everyone and making ridiculous amounts of donuts.” Dorian’s eyes darted towards the aforementioned room. “I’m counting on you, Ellana.”

“What? No!” she whispered after him, but he had gone into the kitchen and didn’t hear. It wasn’t her  _duty_  to talk to Solas. If he wanted to make donuts and ignore everyone, that was his decision. She squeezed back over to her brother instead, who looked trapped behind a burly man by the window.

“Here you go, Mahanon,” she said, handing him a beer and donut.

“Oh, and this is my sister, Ellana!” Mahanon smiled, pointing the man’s gaze towards her. “She’s the one who lives in Haven.”

Mahanon coughed when Dorian reemerged at the shop’s doorway, and she knew he was plotting some feigned reason to leave. “Um, I’m going to the...  _bathroom_ ,” her brother said. And then he bolted. Like the stupid nug he was.

She rolled her eyes, taking a generous swig from her beverage. “Uh, hi,” Ellana said to the man she had just been introduced to. “What’s your name?”

The man cleared his throat. “Name’s Blackwall.”

Ellana smiled and remembered where she recognized him from. “Hey, you’re one of the contractors, right? Who worked on the floor?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Their conversation was extremely awkward. Blackwall didn’t offer any personal information about himself, which left the talk one-sided. Hoping to find a way to excuse herself, she searched the room for her coworkers, and noticed the teenager Cole standing with the dwarf from Crossroads. It surprised her to see them, and she thought to say hello, but really didn’t know them enough to make proper conversation.

She rushed a goodbye to Blackwall and shimmied over to Cassandra instead. “This place is  _packed_ ,” Ellana said to her friend.

“It is surprising for a place that sells  _donuts_ ,” Cassandra replied. She eyed Ellana beside her. “You look nice.”

Ellana blushed over the compliment, although felt grateful that the amount of effort she put into her appearance a few hours prior had paid off. A few minutes later, Mahanon appeared next to her and joined their light chat, apparently done with whatever business he had rushed off to. His beer was already almost empty.  _Seriously, already?_

Time crept by at an agonizing pace, but eventually an hour passed. Ellana found her eyes frequently drifting back to the general kitchen vicinity, even though she was supposed to be in deep conversation with her coworker Cullen. Solas hadn’t popped out once since she’d been at the party, and disappointment and worry heightened with each minute. She wanted him to at least  _see_  her...

But why? What was the point? It was pathetic and childish to strut around while also ignoring him. Ellana should be above all that.

She had no idea why Solas refused to come out, but her mind kept vainly proposing it was her presence. Was he afraid to see her?

It also didn’t help that Dorian was repeatedly glaring, beckoning, and jerking his head towards her for the last hour to reinforce his suggestion that she go speak with the elf. Had Solas asked him to do that?

Was he actually waiting for her in there?

Dorian soon lost patience and came over to her. “Ellana, you are needed in the kitchen,” he muttered before yanking her away from Cullen. She glanced back at her coworker with what hopefully looked apologetic.

Dorian dragged her all the way outside and around the building before stopping at Doughnut Rebel’s back door. “He’s been awful all week, and I cannot get him to talk to me,” Dorian cried. “Please, won’t you speak to him? Even if it’s just to help him move on?”

“Move on?” she asked, taken aback. From her?

Dorian rolled his eyes. “You act like the entire world hasn’t already noticed, Ellana.”

She pursed her lips as a flush spread across her cheeks, but nodded. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

 

* * *

 

“Ellana?” Solas said with widened eyes.

“Hey.” She held up her hand in a timid wave. The door to the kitchen was unlocked, so she had opened it without bothering to knock. It would have been difficult to hear with the loud music playing in the shop, anyway.

Solas was alone, as expected, but surprisingly  _wasn’t_  working. He was just... sitting. On the floor.

Could this be anymore awkward?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—I’ll just be going,” she blurted, backing away.

“No, please stay.” Solas stood, offering a weak smile. “Standing for such an extensive period is tiresome,” he explained. “I was only resting.”

“Maybe you should get a chair, then,” she recommended, talking towards the ground, her face burning. “Or take more breaks.”

“Yes,” he agreed with a nod. “Both practical suggestions.” Solas rubbed his hand on the back of his neck as he paused to think. “I am glad you came. I had hoped to be able to speak with you in private.”

Jumping in so soon? He wasn’t wasting any time. Her stomach plunged to the floor for the impending exchange, and she prayed not to embarrass herself.  _I can do this_. Whatever he was going to say, she would act like a sensible adult and listen to him with reason. And  _answer_  with reason, too.

Solas studied her a moment before taking a breath and saying, “I apologize for what I said of the Dalish. It was insensitive to speak so adversely of your people.”

 _Your people_. There it was again. Ellana sighed. Although she had tried to deny it, the larger part of her had hoped to reconcile with him. She felt too strongly about Solas to cut him off forever. That was why she had truly come to this party and stepped into the kitchen. She thought maybe they could work through it.

But for once, she wouldn’t let the prejudice go.

“The Dalish are elves, too,” she murmured, slowly locking her gaze with his. “Why do you think we’re so different from you?” Her eyes searched his face for any hints of a reaction, but all she found was a detached look of melancholy.

Ellana swallowed and wavered a moment, but continued. “Is it because we live in the country and do all the blue-collar work? You know, most of us don’t have a choice. We don’t have the same opportunities as those raised in cities.” She took a breath and lowered her gaze to the floor again. “My people are your people, too.”

Ellana had never spoken up for the Dalish before. She had always let the others win because she was too scared of losing and becoming an outcast. Ever since moving to Haven, she was constantly on the defense, determined to be agreeable and accepted so that people would look past her markings and treat her as an equal.

But they would never treat her as an equal. Not when they didn’t respect her heritage. Not when they didn't understand how wrong they were.

Solas remained silent, and she worried that she had made a mistake.  _No_. If he would not accept it, then this was goodbye. She took a deep breath and prepared her final farewell, but stopped when he opened his mouth to reply.

“I never told you of my experience with the Dalish,” Solas said, catching her gaze again. “You are the first Dalish I have ever had a”—he hesitated to choose the right word—“pleasant experience with.”

He knew other Dalish? And they had offended him?

“I have been attacked by Dalish in the past, so I learned to avoid them,” Solas explained. “And I assumed all Dalish would be as ignorant and unjust as my assailants, which I realize was wrong of me. I never believed I would... become close with one.”

His story astonished her. Ellana always thought he had formed his judgements from afar, like most city elves, without having much reasoning behind it besides popular media. There were so few Dalish to get to know in Haven, after all. 

“Some Dalish attacked you?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Solas bowed his head once in affirmation. “It was several years ago, and not the most enjoyable memory. I rather not speak of it.”

Ellana nodded. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“You have no need to apologize, but thank you for the sentiment.”

A quiet settled between them as the revelations sunk in. His confession made her feel ill. Dalish had attacked him. Possibly even traumatized him. Really, his issues weren’t too different from her own misgivings about city elves.

“I guess I should tell you something, too, then,” Ellana decided to say. “I’ve dated other city elves before, but it’s always ended badly because of my heritage. I don’t want to get involved with someone again who can’t accept me for who I am.”

Solas nodded. “I would not expect you to,” he agreed quietly, looking out towards the doorway where a sliver of the party could be seen. Echoes of conversations wafted into the kitchen, but she felt like they were the only two people in Thedas.

As another silence in conversation came, Ellana examined him. He slouched more than usual, and there was so much unhappiness etched into his features. What had those Dalish done to him?

Solas met her gaze again, and the intensity of his stare completely arrested her breath. “I would never—” he started.

“ELLANA!” a voice boomed from outside. It was Cassandra. “Ellana, where are you? Your brother—!”

Ellana blinked back into reality. Mahanon? What had he done  _now_?

“Ah—I guess I have to go,” she said. “Why don’t we... continue this later?”

“Tonight?” Solas asked. “If not, I may not—”

“Ellana, please help!” Cassandra shouted again.

“I should really go.” Ellana retreated towards the door. “Maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow?”

Solas sighed and nodded. “Another time, then,” he said, turning away.

Ellana left the kitchen and rushed around the building to find her brother vomiting all over the street from the sidewalk.  _Ew_.

“Mahanon, you idiot!” Ellana chided. “How much did you drink?”

Cassandra stood a few steps behind him. “I think you should take him home,” she suggested, a clear revulsion painting her face.

“Come on, stupid.” Ellana helped her brother up, careful to avoid any renegade sick, and waved goodbye to Cassandra. As she walked to her apartment, her mind wandered back to Solas. She worried about whatever violence had befallen him, but at least she now knew why he disassociated himself from the Dalish. And she really couldn’t think of a reason not to forgive him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I have to mention the AMAZING Doughnut Rebel-inspired things people have created!
> 
> [Tales2TellU](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tales2TellU/) made actual [Chocolate Embrium and Chocolate Crystal Grace donuts](http://bluegirlbooks.tumblr.com/post/128425147334/chocolate-embrium-and-chocolate-crystal-grace)!! They look so delicious and I can't stop drooling...
> 
> [Creepalopod](http://creepalopod.tumblr.com) made this beautiful fanart of [baker Solas](http://creepalopod.tumblr.com/post/128606246279/happy-mess-solas-ala-doughnut-rebel-via) and also a [teen Cole](http://creepalopod.tumblr.com/post/127996744939/the-apathy-that-kills-been-on-that-dragon-age-au) who is totally my headcanon for what Cole looks like in this story. Gahhh. They kills me!!
> 
> I'm sorry about the delay of this chapter. I think many of you can guess why? I was (and still am) having DLC feels. Sigh. It was difficult to edit this, and I'm still not happy with it, so sorry about that.
> 
> I promise it will get fluffy again soon, and have a nice happy ending. BECAUSE THAT'S ALL I WANT!! (T_T)


	16. Chapter 16

The smell of fried dough arrested her at the door for a brief second before she plunged inside the shop. Ellana glanced around, noticing how every mess had been tidied away, and Doughnut Rebel was returned to its usual pristine condition. And it hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since the party. Although, Solas was far too diligent to leave his shop in any state less than immaculate, even for one day.

Just as she had promised, Ellana was here to speak with Solas, whom she hoped to reconcile with. Maybe even a little  _more_  than reconcile...

But as her eyes reached those of the person manning the storefront, she halted with confusion.

“Cole?” Ellana asked, her gaze flying towards the apron tied around the teen’s waist. “You... work here?”

“Hello,” Cole greeted. His voice was as glassy as his gaze. “I sell donuts now.”

“Uh, yeah,” she replied. Solas must have taken her advice to heart and actually hired him. She felt a little relieved at the thought, since Cole was now a legal adult and likely needed any help he could get for adapting to the change.

Ellana smiled and tried to crane her neck around the counter to get a look into the kitchen, but saw only a dark room. Should she just go around to the back?

“Oh, Ellana, is that you?” Dorian called from behind the racks. “Solas isn’t here.”

Her face warmed with embarrassment. “Ah... he’s not?” she inquired, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

“No, he had some personal affairs to attend to,” Dorian answered. A dark pair of eyes peered through the trays of donuts at her. “I don’t know when he’ll return,” he added quietly.

Her smile fell into a discouraged frown. “Oh.”

“He fears for a friend,” Cole said, staring out the nearby window. “There isn’t much time.”

Ellana raised her eyebrows. Fears for a friend? Solas?

Whatever the case was, it was best to give him his space if he needed it. “Well, thanks, anyway,” Ellana said. She waved to Dorian in the kitchen and nodded to Cole. “I should probably get to work.”

 

* * *

 

“Seriously, Sowen? Are you  _blind_? The loot is  _right there_!” Mahanon shouted at his laptop. He laughed. “You’re such an idiot, I swear.”

Ellana rubbed her temples, wishing she were alone. When was the last time he had left her apartment? Mahanon had taken over her living room, piling his clothes and random belongings all over the floor. Most days he didn’t even search for a job, and when he did, it was so half-hearted, she’d be surprised if he even spelled his name correctly.

It was now the weekend, but she was sitting at her kitchen table and coding a project for the office. Ellana welcomed the activity's distraction, even if it meant working on a Saturday. Solas hadn’t appeared in the shop for a week now, and yes, she was worried.

After two days of his absence, she had called him, but his number went straight to voicemail. Strange. She shot him a text message, but to no avail. Even stranger.

Ellana tried not to fret over it too much, but it was difficult given the tenuous way they had left things in their last conversation. Had she been too rude? Was he so offended that he cut Ellana out of his life?

She knew that was ridiculous to believe, but the idea was present nonetheless. Ellana was well acquainted with people ignoring her, although the thought of Solas evading her calls kept her up at night with misery. Perhaps whatever they had was over, and she had to accept it.

But the more reasonable part of her mind thought of Cole's ambiguous words:  _There isn't much time_. Much time for what? Was Solas okay?

Even Dorian was anxious. On the mornings she popped in for coffee, he would sit with her outside and ask if she’d heard anything. Solas never went this long without notice, Dorian explained. Something had to be wrong, and as the Tevinter fiddled with his mustache and anxiously checked his phone, Ellana became even more uneasy.

The worst part of the entire situation was that she couldn’t even do anything about it.

So when her brother wasted his time playing video games with his clan friends from back home, instead of doing what he had moved to Ferelden for, she was  _irate._

“MAHANON!” Ellana screamed, making her brother jump out of his seat. She trudged over to the couch, and slammed her palm on his laptop to close it shut. “What. Are. You.  _Doing_?” she demanded.

Mahanon only furrowed his brow and gaped at her. “What in the void was  _that_ , Ellana? We were in the middle of a boss fight!”

“I don’t care,” she sneered, folding her arms together. “You need to get a job and get off of my couch.”

Mahanon rolled his eyes. “It’s not  _my_  fault no one has called for an interview.”

Steam nearly burst from her pointy ears with the rage that followed his answer. Ellana took one slow, deep breath before starting her vehement reply. She berated Mahanon, describing countless ways he could be appropriating his time. She ranted about his messes, his laziness, his immature style of dressing and even his unkempt hair. “And if you don’t start working harder,” she warned, “you’re  _out_. I will kick you out, I’m not kidding!”

Mahanon arched a challenging brow, determined to call her bluff. “Oh,  _will_  you? Your own brother? Don’t you know how mad Mamae’d be?”

Ellana shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what Mamae thinks. This is  _my_  house, and I can do whatever I want!”

Her brother spat out an offended exhale. “Gods, who  _are_  you? Fen’Harel?”

She paused and squinted her eyes at him. “What’s  _that_  supposed to mean?”

He jabbed a finger at her. “You’re acting crazy,” Mahanon accused, turning away to sulk into the couch. “You’re messed up.” He glared up at his sister. “I trusted you. I thought you’d help me, and then it turns out you’re just here to ruin my life, like that blighted Fen’Harel.”

Ellana rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic.” She sighed and sat next to him on the sofa. Mahanon always put on theatrics when avoiding responsibility. His insult was not entirely unexpected, although to be called such a name startled her regardless. Fen’Harel? The person every old Evanuris worker would curse with bitterness whenever something even remotely unreasonable happened to them? That was a little excessive.

Mahanon closed his eyes and leaned into the cushions. “I can’t believe you want to kick me out.”

“Come on, Mahanon. I think I’m pretty reasonable.”

He sighed. “I’ll probably just end up going back to the Marches anyway,” he moped. “I’m not you. I don’t have any skills besides manual labor.”

“You’ll find something.” She patted his shoulder. “I know you will.”

 

* * *

 

“I found him,” Dorian revealed that very same afternoon. They were seated outside of Doughnut Rebel, at the usual table Solas and Ellana had always conversed at.

“You did?” Ellana nearly spit out her coffee.

Dorian nodded, drinking from his own cup before setting it down on the table again. “I went to his condo last night,” he explained. Dorian shook his head and looked at some distant point down the street. “He’s...”

“What?” She squeezed her paper cup in anticipation.

“His friend died.”

“Oh.” The two fell silent. Solas had lost a friend. Although Ellana had spoken to him on several occasions about his life, Solas never once mentioned any friends, and the only ones she knew of were Dorian and the people from Crossroads. Was it someone from the group home?

“I am going back to his place again tonight,” Dorian informed. He fixed his gaze on her again. “Would you come with me?”

The question caught her by surprise. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She might only distress him more if she came along...

“Yes,” Dorian answered firmly. “Without a doubt.”

“I don’t know...” If Solas had wanted to see her, then why wouldn't he answer her calls or texts? Surely, her company was unwanted.

“He’s not doing well, Ellana.” Dorian sighed, rubbing his eyes with a thumb and finger. “I’m worried.”

If Dorian was this concerned, Ellana knew the situation must be dismal, although she still doubted her capability to help. “Okay,” she conceded. “When?”

“Tonight.” Dorian stood with a determined nod. “The sooner the better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'm so sorry for the long break! I was on a trip for a while and just got so busy and tired, but now I'm back!
> 
> Secondly, this chapter was going to be longer, but then I ended up splitting it two because the second half just isn't ready yet. ARGH. Anyway, I'm just apologizing everywhere.
> 
> And last but not least (actually the BEST), Creepalopod did [an AMAZING illustration](http://creepalopod.tumblr.com/post/128949552684/cole-at-work-wishful-thinking-for-doughnut-rebel) of Cole working at Doughnut Rebel!! So yeah, that's what he looks like in this chapter. :D And it was actually my plan all along for Cole to start working at DR, so it's amazing that such a beautiful aproned Cole exists and was predicted before this chapter even came out!!
> 
> Deedylovescake did [a gorgeousssss fanart](http://deedala.tumblr.com/post/129327849514/ok-my-first-contribution-to-solas-fluff-friday-is) of Ellana and Solas being donut dweebs and it's so beautifulll and I can't breathe. Also, I headcanon that she's eating a Chocolate Crystal Grace. ;) ;)


	17. Chapter 17

Solas lived farther out of town than Ellana had anticipated. Dorian drove her to the outskirts of Haven, where most of the larger buildings melted away into suburban housing. Solas lived in a complex called the Hinterlands, and as she and Dorian stood in front of his condominium’s door, Ellana felt her stomach roll with unease.

This was like an invasion. She understood the desire to grieve alone, and Solas’ lack of communication suggested that he wanted to be left to himself. But if Dorian really believed they needed to be here...

Dorian rang the doorbell and gave her a meager smile. “Don’t be surprised if—” he started, but was cut off by the door opening.

Solas stood in his entrance way and blinked at the pair for a moment before widening his eyes at the Dalish. “Ellana—”

“Oh, good, you answered!” Dorian cheered, pushing past the elf and letting himself inside. “And my, my, you even bathed today!”

Ellana remained outside his door as Solas stared at her, dumbfounded and flushed. He was wearing a white t-shirt and some dark jeans, which felt so casual compared to his usual attire.

“Can I come in?” she ventured, averting her eyes from his bare arms. Short sleeves suited him well...

Solas nodded. “Yes. Of course,” he said, stepping aside. “I apologize for the mess.” He glared towards Dorian, who had waltzed into the kitchen. “Dorian informed me he would be arriving  _alone_.”

“Do tell me you ate today, yes?” Dorian asked, ignoring Solas’ comment. Solas didn’t answer, but the Tevinter sighed as he surveyed the unused state of the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “I’ll fix you something, then.”

Ellana edged through the doorway and glanced around Solas’ home. Compared to Mahanon’s mess, this place was a sanctuary. In fact, Ellana wasn’t even sure what mess he was apologizing for, except for some junk mail spread out on a coffee table.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” Solas offered, gesturing to a sofa. He was so flustered with reddened ears, and even his eyes avoided her gaze. She swallowed a heavy lump of guilt that had built up a considerable amount since seeing him. This was a bad idea.

“I’m sorry for coming unexpectedly...” Ellana murmured as she seated herself down. “I was just a little worried. You haven’t been answering calls...”

“Ah—yes.” Solas sat on the other end of the couch. His eyes flickered to hers before settling elsewhere. “Forgive me. It seems I have misplaced my phone.”

Ellana shook her head. “That’s fine! I mean, it’s understandable. You’re going through a—” She stopped. What was appropriate to say?

Solas turned to her then and raised a brow. “Dorian told you?”

“Yes,” she answered, staring down into her lap. “I’m sorry for your loss.” The words sounded lame and generic as they spilled from her mouth, but she didn’t know what else to say.

Solas seemed exhausted as he replied, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Coffee, Ellana?” Dorian called from the kitchen.

“Oh. Yes, thank you!”

Dorian filled their silence with clatters of pots and pans and grumblings of what little food Solas had in his fridge. Ellana peeked at the elf beside her, who stared out the window as they sat. She followed his gaze to see a garden outside.

“Do you grow your herbs there?” she asked, jumping to make conversation.

The corners of Solas’ mouth lifted in what could possibly be called a smile, but it seemed to drain him of all his energy to do so. “Not all. But yes, I grow the rarer herbs here.” He still focused on the window.

Ellana nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at her. “Can I see them?”

“If you’d like.”

With a small exhale, Solas stood and walked towards a sliding door which led to his garden. Ellana followed him to his rows of flowerbeds, all brimming with plants, and noticed how slouched his posture was. Tired and slumped. He looked far worse than his demeanor at the party.

“Felandaris,” Solas announced as if giving a tour. He pointed to a spikey-leafed plant before dropping his arm at his side again. “I have worked on a recipe with this plant for some time, but with no success yet.”

“What does it taste like?” Ellana asked.

Solas smiled. Feeble, but it brought some life to his features. “Terrible.”

Terrible? Then why eat it? Ellana pursed her lips to keep from grinning. It would be inappropriate to laugh, right?

Solas’ smile stretched a little wider. “Terrible, but it works well with certain fruits,” he expanded.

Ellana lifted a brow. “Like... bittersweet?” She had no idea what taste he was describing.

“I’m not actually sure.” He chuckled, and it was so unexpected, she blushed.

But his laugh eased her apprehension somewhat. He still seemed miserable, but at least he could smile. That was something. Ellana ambled around the planters of the garden, taking note of how well tended they were. Her childhood had taught her well on what healthy plants looked like. Solas’ garden was thriving, even though she ascertained that some of these herbs would struggle with surviving in Haven’s climate.

“Oh, Crystal Grace!” Ellana exclaimed while looking at the flora.

“Yes,” Solas affirmed. “A beautiful flower.”

“I haven’t seen these since I came to Haven,” Ellana recalled. She bowed towards one, and pulled the flower gently to whiff its perfume. “They always smell so good.”

Solas watched her silently as she rose again to stand. Their gazes locked onto one another’s, and Ellana noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping well. She approached him in a slow stride, careful to observe any changes in his disposition. The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable.

But Solas remained completely still and only continued to observe her. “I did not realize how long I was away until Dorian came yesterday,” he explained, changing the subject. He then released a heavy breath. “Time passed so quickly since... I should have contacted you. I apologize.”

“Solas, really,” Ellana replied, taking another step nearer and raising her chin to meet his gaze. She was now well into his bubble of personal space, but Solas hadn’t moved away nor protested. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

He studied her a few moments before turning his attention to a plant and breaking their eye contact. “Her death was sudden, and yet... unsurprising,” he said darkly, reaching towards the leaf of an herb.

Sudden, yet unsurprising?

Dorian cleared his throat from behind them. “Solas, you had nothing but eggs, so I had to make do with an omelette.” He cocked his head with defiance and folded his arms together. “And I won’t leave until I see you eat it.”

Solas sighed. “Very well,” he agreed and headed inside again, with Ellana following.

The three sat at a small dining table while Solas slowly ate the meal Dorian had prepared him. Dorian chatted all the while about how Cole was certainly an adjustment to work with, but he was starting to admire his eerie way of selling their product.

“It’s strange, you know,” Dorian went on. “He seems to know what flavor a customer would like just by their appearance.” He scrunched his brow. “I don’t know how he does it, but I do wish he would smile more.” He raised an eyebrow at Solas. “Our reputation might fall, after all.”

“I will return in a few days,” Solas replied quietly.

“A few days, you say?” Dorian glanced at the kitchen again. “How will you survive when I’ve used the last of your provisions?”

Solas sighed. “Dorian, I am perfectly able—”

“I’m going grocery shopping for you,” Dorian interrupted with a wave of his hand. “I won’t let you starve here.” He pushed his chair out from the table and stood. “Ellana, keep him company while I’m out.”

“You’re going right now?” Ellana asked, alarmed.

“The man is  _starving_  himself.” Dorian strode to the door. “I shall return soon!”

The moment the door closed after Dorian, Solas set his fork down. “I do not think I can eat any more,” he said, staring down into his plate. “It’s difficult. My appetite hasn’t...”

Ellana’s brow furrowed with concern. He wasn’t eating, he wasn’t sleeping, and he could barely even smile. What could she do to help?

She reached over the table and placed her hand atop of his. “It’s okay,” she consoled. “Just take it slow.”

He smiled weakly and looked at their hands. “I am glad you came,” he murmured. “I did not think I would see you again after the things I’ve said.”

Ellana moved a chair closer to the one right beside him. “No, don’t worry about that. I understand now,” she said, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, I forgive you.”

“You are kind,” he said quietly, finally meeting her eyes. Solas looked so broken, like a person torn past breaking point. And he lived alone. If they hadn’t come, would he have just starved from depression? The man who always seemed so confident in every decision he made, every word... was so despondent he didn’t even have the motivation to eat.

She wanted to help him and be his support. Ellana raised her hand to his cheek, and he didn't pull away or even startle, but only closed his eyes at the touch.

“You don’t have to mourn alone.”

“I... thank you,” he said, his eyes still shut.

His home was completely silent now that Dorian had left, save for the soft sound of a breeze from an open window that prickled her skin. Solas leaned into her palm, breathing slowly and looking almost peaceful. The moment felt so intimate.

Ellana watched Solas, completely enraptured. Every part of his face was like something to discover. The scar above his brow, the bump in the bridge of his nose, the two perfect curves of his upper lip... Yes, his mouth was especially captivating.

Ellana swallowed. She  _really_  cared about him. A compulsion to kiss Solas overtook her, and she leaned forward, perched on the very edge of her chair just to reach him, and Ellana gently pressed her lips to his.

He felt so  _soft_.

But Solas inhaled sharply from the contact, and she jerked away.

“I’m  _so_  sorry!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I didn’t—I mean, that was so inappropriate. I’m really sorry.” What was  _wrong_  with her? He was in mourning!

“No,” Solas said with a brief shake of his head. “Please, don’t apologize. You only surprised me.” He smiled, warming his features into a tender gaze, and reached for her face then, brushing his thumb along her cheekbone.

“Have you any idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” he asked in a whisper that stopped her heart.

His fingers moved to her jaw, and a thumb grazed over her lower lip. “But you were always just out of reach.” He gazed at Ellana for a brief instant before bringing her into another kiss.

Their lips moved in soft, slow caresses. Solas was so patient and unrushed, like he was tending to something delicate and precious, like he was learning her through her mouth. He drew her closer until sitting in two separate chairs became unnecessary, and Ellana settled into his lap.

“You’re really good at this,” she breathed onto his lips.

He smiled. “I could say the same for you.”

“Well, don’t stop,” she moaned, pulling his chin for more.

“Dorian may return at any moment,” Solas warned.

Oh. She had forgotten about Dorian. Ellana broke away to glance at the door. “You’re right,” she admitted, crestfallen. She looked back at the elf she was seated on, and felt her face burn from how close they were.  _We kissed._  Did this mean they were together? Or was she assuming things too quickly, yet again?

She should just clarify, shouldn't she? “So...” Ellana began, but the longer she looked at Solas, the more worried she became of upsetting him. He was dealing with enough already as it was.

She smiled instead, and dragged her finger along the line of his jaw. “So... why don’t I stop by again tomorrow?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Maybe we can get you a new phone together,” she suggested.

Solas brushed some hair behind her ear. “That sounds perfect.”

Dorian eventually did come back, holding six bags of groceries that held far too much food for one person. He shifted his eyes suspiciously between the two.

“Did I miss something?” Dorian questioned.

“Only your reflection,” Solas said, grinning at Ellana.

Dorian rolled his eyes, but smiled at his friend returning to his usual attitude. He and Ellana soon left together, and she also couldn’t keep herself from smiling as she replayed the memory of their kisses over and over in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> Nahhhh, just kidding! :) I was really nervous about posting this, though. Huuuuu, but there it is.


	18. Chapter 18

Ellana stood outside of Solas’ home, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. A cool, morning breeze whistled past her ear, and she pulled her jacket's collar higher to protect her from the chill. Had she arrived too early?

They had never agreed on a meeting time, yet Ellana assumed mid-morning would be appropriate. She had, after all, usually only seen him in the early hours.

Ellana rapped her knuckles on the door. Since they had kissed yesterday, did that mean they were together? How was she supposed to greet him when he answered the door?

Ellana didn’t have much time to deliberate as the locks of the door clicked. “Hello,” Solas greeted. He smiled at her, and she noticed his outfit seemed more... him. Although he was wearing the traditional earth tones of mourning.

“Hi,” she returned. “I hope it’s still okay that I came today. I couldn’t call you, so...”

Solas smiled a little brighter. “Of course. Please, come in.”

His body went rigid as she passed through the doorway, and he drifted away from her. No kiss, no hug, not a touch from him. Awkward. This was _awkward_ , wasn’t it? Perhaps he had second thoughts about their relationship, or whatever it was they now were.

“Have you eaten lunch yet?” Ellana asked. Still a little early, but not too out of the question. And she was eager to have an activity for distraction.

Solas scratched the back of his neck. “No,” he answered.

“Do you want to?” Ellana gave a timid smile and rubbed her elbow. “I mean, eat lunch together...”

Regrets were pouring into her mind left and right. Yesterday had been a fluke! A lapse in judgement from his grief! Why had she come today? This was a mistake. Their kiss had been a mistake. Her stomach fluttered as she waited for his reply, which was taking agonizingly long. Solas seemed preoccupied. Remorseful?

“Yes,” he finally answered with a nod. “Would you like to go now?”

She nodded, and they immediately departed to where his car sat in the nearby lot, the two elves untouching and silent. Ellana wrung her hands together. It was like she had forgotten all her basic social interactions. What did they usually talk about?

“The weather is nice today,” Ellana exclaimed, and then fought the urge to run away from the embarrassment of how loud and sudden her comment was.

Solas glanced towards the sky for a brief instant before flashing her a small smile. “Sunnier than usual,” he remarked. He unlocked his car, and Ellana hurried to the passenger seat.

As they settled into the cushions of his vehicle, Ellana noted how slow and languid each of his movements were. His hands seemed to crawl to his seat belt, dragging the buckle down his chest until he eventually clasped it secure. Solas’ eyes were still dark, too. Deep circles swept beneath each one like baggage from every regret he’d ever had.

His gaze soon caught her staring, and Ellana quickly looked away. Solas paused a moment, but soon started the engine and placed his hand on her seat to back out of the space.

Ellana should not have come today. He needed more time, and she must be pressuring him in some way. Yesterday had only been a temporary distraction. Perhaps one better forgotten. Ellana eased out a slow exhale and tried to relax. She would help him get a new phone, and then go home. That would be—

Something warm brushed her shoulder. Ellana turned to Solas again, whose hand swept across her shoulder to meet her cheek.

“Would it be all right if I...” he began, trailing off as she regarded him. “If I...”

She didn't ask what his request was because his eyes answered for him. As he looked at her, he became focused. Present. No remorse, no pity in them. They were warm, and _ardent_.

Solas leaned towards her, one side of his mouth upturned into a half smile. Excitement and relief coursed through her veins as Ellana also moved forward, but he stopped with a strangled noise when his seat belt forced him back.

He laughed. “Damn things,” Solas said as he unclicked the mechanism. And Ellana practically fell over the gearshift to kiss him. And he certainly didn’t hesitate to return the affection.

She almost wanted to laugh from her earlier insecurities, but even a smile could disrupt further kisses. Ellana didn't want to risk it.

 

* * *

 

Once his new phone registered, messages came pouring in. Solas tapped away at his screen and brought the device to his ear. He grinned after listening for a few moments.

“No!” Ellana shouted, grabbing for the phone, but Solas held it just out of reach. “Please don’t listen to my message! At least not while I’m here.”

“Relax.” Solas smiled. “I skipped yours.” He kissed her forehead and put his phone back to his ear.

They were back at Solas' again, and after a cozy lunch and even cozier shopping, Ellana had adjusted to his sudden acts of tenderness. It felt natural and instinctive. And yet his touch still sparked excited electricity through her veins.

Together with entwined arms, they sat on his living room couch as he caught up on voicemail. A particular message seemed to upset him, and his smile melted into a frown.

Solas sighed and set his phone on the table nearby. “I need to leave, Ellana,” he announced with another exhale. “My friend who... passed still has some belongings at the prison that I should collect.”

Ellana choked on some saliva. “Prison?”

Solas nodded. “My friend was imprisoned for protesting several years ago. Prison life was never best for her health...”

“I’m sorry,” Ellana said quietly, squeezing his hand.

“She was always a pacifist, and did nothing wrong," Solas explained. "She did not deserve such a life.”

Prison? Protesting? Had Solas also been a protester? Countless questions arose in her thoughts, but she filed them away for another time. He didn't need the prying. Not now.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Ellana asked.

He offered her a weak smile. “It’s probably best if I go alone.”

“Are you sure?” She worried about how traumatic such a place would be. Seeing where a friend died...

“I’ll be fine, Ellana.” Solas pulled her into a reassuring embrace. “This is one last respect I can do for her.” His fingers tangled in her hair. “And I rather not bring you to a place I despise.”

Solas pressed a kiss to her lips. As much as she wanted to be there for him, she decided to let it go. Some things were best done alone.

 

* * *

 

Ellana was getting used to having his scent around. It was something sweet, with always that comfortable hint of cinnamon. She would smell it when her nose pressed against his cheek as they kissed, or as he held her, and Ellana's head rested against the base of his neck. She loved his smell.

Solas felt like home. He eased her mind, soothed her worry. Ellana would forget about the world when they were together.

And no other sound could captivate her the way the steady beating of his heart could. Except, perhaps, his voice.

She had seen him every day since their first kiss, yet it never felt like enough. Each parting had her missing him instantly, like the loss of his touch and taste and smell were too much to bear.

Solas returned to Doughnut Rebel, although not as often as before. Cole was still an employee, after all, and most of the time Solas was extraneous. He still wore the color of mourning, shades of brown to remember his friend, but his smile was not as hard to come by.

“How long has it been?” Dorian asked.

Ellana raised a brow. “Hm?” She was sipping coffee with Dorian outside the shop before work, and Solas hadn't appeared yet that morning.

Dorian rolled his eyes. “How long have you been with Solas?”

She pursed her lips together. Was their relationship a secret? Why hadn’t Solas told him about them? Was it because she was Dalish?

It had only been about two weeks since they first kissed, and she hesitated to call him her boyfriend. Something about the word threw her off. Like he was more, yet not quite there. In such a short time, things were feeling serious.

Ellana twisted the paper sleeve of her coffee cup around and around in a nervous fidget. “Why? Has he said anything?” she deflected. Better to avoid the question than admit the wrong answer.

Dorian sighed. “Well, you know Solas,” he said, resting his chin on an elbow. “He will talk about anything for ages except for himself.”

The mornings were so much chillier now that autumn was edging into winter.  Ellana zipped up her jacket and took a sip of her coffee. She should just tell Dorian the truth. He was her friend, and probably had been suspecting it for a while, anyway.

“Do the both of you always discuss me in my absence?” Solas interjected behind them.

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Only to speculate why you still maintain that hairstyle.” He stood from the table. “Or rather, there lack of.”

“Good morning, Ellana,” Solas said before leaning over her shoulder and pecking her on the cheek. A sudden flush washed over her face from the display of affection.

Dorian blinked at them. “I suppose that answers my question,” he snorted and turned to return to the shop.

Solas sat himself beside Ellana and smiled. He hadn't been hiding. She wasn't a dirty little secret, kept from the world for her Dalish upbringing. They were a couple. Public and normal and happy.

Ellana laced their fingers together and grinned at him. “Have I ever properly introduced you to my brother?”

 

* * *

 

“Have I met you before?” Mahanon squinted (practically glared, Ellana noted) at Solas.

Solas tilted his head as he regarded her brother. “Perhaps you have seen me at the shop. I am the owner, after all.”

Mahanon scrunched his nose up, still unconvinced, but he moved on. “So you’re dating my sister, huh?” He brought his hands together for a loud crack of his knuckles.

Ellana smacked him on the arm. “Mahanon, don’t be weird.”

Her brother rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.” Mahanon stuck out his hand for a shake. “...  _Finally_ ,” he added with a sideways glance to his sister. “I was wondering why she kept deserting me these past few weeks,” Mahanon explained as he shook Solas’ hand. “Always sneaking off...”

“Oh, please,” Ellana said. Her brother was so dramatic.

 

* * *

 

“Your boyfriend is so weird,” Mahanon observed as Ellana sat with him on the couch. “Talking to him felt like a job interview.”

“Solas is not weird,” she countered. “He wants to help you find a job, Mahanon. It was  _nice_  of him.”

“How old is he, anyway?” her brother continued. “He seems old.”

Ellana shrugged. “I don’t know, and it really doesn’t matter, okay?”

“And there’s something about his face...”

“Mahanon, will you shut up already? I’m dating him, so get over it.” Ellana contemplated going to bed early just to have an excuse to leave the conversation.

“No, I mean, he  _looks_  like someone. Someone I’ve met before or something.”

Ellana shrugged, and flipped through her magazine. “You probably saw him at Doughnut Rebel, idiot.”

“Hm, I don’t know... I think I’d remember that big bald head of his,” Mahanon smirked.

She rolled up her magazine and hit him hard on the chest.

Despite his mockings, Ellana felt grateful that no quarrels over Solas’ lack of vallaslin came up. Mahanon was the first Lavellan to meet her new guy, and she worried about bringing a city elf back to her clan. What would her mother say?

She wasn’t raised particularly  _against_  city elves, but there was always an unspoken rule about dating fellow Dalish. Although, Ellana was probably just getting ahead of herself, anyway (as usual). She was happy now, at least. Solas made her happy, and she would be content with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a long delay, and I'm so sorry! Just had life things, and the teeniest bit of writer's block. :/ But omg, thank you to everyone who's commented/bookmarked/subscribed/left kudos in the last few weeks! I am so honored, and floored!! *__*
> 
> AND, [Deedylovescake](http://deedylovescake.tumblr.com/) made the most [beautiful, amazing, afafgadsgadsdf art of last chapter's kiss](http://deedala.tumblr.com/post/131466053229/excuse-me-while-i-spiral-out-over-doughnut-rebel/)!!!
> 
> I just love it so much. ;__;


	19. Chapter 19

Ellana awoke, reaching out and feeling disappointed when she found the bed empty. Solas must have already gotten up for the day, and as she stretched, she could hear the soft murmur of his voice on the phone.

She leisurely sat up and surveyed his bedroom. Ellana hadn’t spent much time examining his room, partially because she was usually too preoccupied with its inhabitant, but also because he had hardly anything to look at.

_Not even a photo_ , she noted, stumbling out of bed and stretching her arms above her head. He had left the curtains closed, most likely for her benefit, and Ellana cringed from the brightness as she drew them open. Ellana had slept too long.

The only real ornamentation that adorned his room were various potted plants which Solas must have felt particularly appealing. She smiled at the Crystal Grace that sat contently in his window sill. _A beautiful flower_ , she heard his voice say in a memory.

Ellana usually spent weekends at his place (any chance to get away from her brother was welcome), and the two had fallen into an easy ritual of Solas waiting for her in the shop until her work day ended. She even had a drawer.

They were certainly a couple now, even if neither had ever vocalized the term. It had been a few months, or at least it _felt_ like months. Ellana was trying not to count or overanalyze how this was the longest relationship she’d ever had. She just wanted to _be_ (for once).

A slip of paper peeking out from a book caught her eye, and Ellana curiously turned the cover over. It was a manual on herbs, nothing unexpected, but still she opened to the bookmark’s place. The page marked depicted Dragonthorn, detailing its healing properties and edibility, but the bookmark itself was what captivated her.

_11 Harvestmere 18:00 - Evanuris_

The company’s name jumped out at her like fire. The words had been scribbled onto a piece of paper in a rushed fashion, almost like a reminder. Evanuris? Why would Solas have this? He hadn’t even mentioned the company since their first argument so long ago.

Ellana hurried to close the book and return it to its previous position. It felt like she had intruded on some deep, dark secret, even though she had no idea what it meant. A date, a time, and the name of the company who had supported her clan. Evanuris, who she was certain Solas despised.

“You’re awake,” Solas remarked behind her, making her yelp in surprise.

She feigned a laugh and scratched at her neck. “I didn’t want to disturb your phone call,” Ellana explained, and it was mostly the truth.

Solas smiled. “The shop is in a panic. Apparently there is a scarcity of cinnamon, but I assured Dorian I would bring him more.”

“Oh.” Ellana stepped closer to him, edging away from the mysterious note. “So you have to go?”

“Not before breakfast,” he clarified. Solas took one of her hands and lead her away from the bedroom. “What would you like to eat? And do not say donuts,” Solas teased with a grin.

Ellana laughed. Whatever that piece of paper meant, it really didn’t matter. It could be anything. A reminder to watch a television program, some documentary special. Yes. It was probably that. Solas was always keen for knowledge. Maybe he was trying to learn more about her upbringing.

Solas loved listening to tales of her childhood now, despite his early awkwardness whenever she would mention her clan. He asked endless questions about her family and home in the Marches. What was her aravel like? Was she close with her clan? What was her mother like?

Her answers would always lead to more questions, until they became so granular she didn’t even know the answers. Solas would ask about her education, the government, laws... and when her mind drew a blank, he would tell her what _he_ knew, but no longer assumed to be correct.

That was the biggest change Ellana noticed in the months she’d known him. The finality of his opinions had tempered to flexible inferences that he could actually be dissuaded from. In fact, he was now so intrigued by the Dalish that she was starting to feel proud of her vallaslin again.

Ellana watched him as he prepared their meal, with him glancing up every so often to smile fondly at her. Whatever Solas was making, she knew it would be delicious.

He never even had to measure anything, or if he did, it was so subtle that she didn’t catch it. Cooking was second nature to him, and he understood food better than even the most experienced farmers and chefs she knew from back home.

Ellana sighed as she watched his hands deftly whip a mixture with practiced ease. She was completely in love with him now, and the idea wasn’t as frightening as she expected.

Still, she didn’t want to say it and scare him away.

 

* * *

 

“How long have you known Solas?” Ellana asked Cole out of curiosity. The elf himself was buried somewhere in the kitchen, and Ellana leaned against the counter, making friendly conversation.

“It was my birthday last year. I had turned seventeen, but he didn’t know that. He wanted to help. It makes him feel less guilty,” Cole answered.

“Less guilty?” Ellana quirked a brow at the young employee. What did he have to be guilty over?

But Cole didn't have a chance to answer as Dorian came strolling in carrying bags of supplies. “I have come bearing every denomination any Fereldan could ask for!”

The teen’s vague remark plagued her all day. Ellana sometimes felt like she knew Solas better than anyone. She could guess his reaction, anticipate his decisions, assume his opinions. But when it came to his history, her mind was often at a loss. He had travelled, she knew, but what about his family? Where was he even from? Knowledge that should be common for a girlfriend (or whatever she was), and yet every time she ventured a question about it, nothing.

“Do you have any regrets, Solas?” Ellana asked that very evening when she could no longer contain it.

A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth, and his back went rigid in an instant. Solas thought a moment before giving a brief answer, “Everyone has regrets of some form. I suppose I am just as any other.”

She let a slow breath escape her. His usual response to queries like these. Solas never gave a straight answer about his past, so why should she have expected any different?

“I regret not pushing Mahanon to finish school,” Ellana revealed instead. “I thought it didn’t matter at the time because he could just work at Evanuris, but look at him now...”

Solas reached an arm around her shoulders and rubbed her soothingly. “I’ve been speaking to some contacts about him, Ellana,” he said. “Everything will be fine. Your brother will find something when the time is right.”

Ellana smiled despite her disappointment of yet _another_ evaded question. She wished he would just trust her, but some things took time, she supposed.

 

* * *

 

The first time he called her vhenan felt like all the gravity in the world had disappeared. Their limbs were tangled together, noses practically touching, unable to keep the smiles from their lips as they looked at each other. Her whole body sang as he whispered the word, the _v_ sound vibrating down her spine. No one had ever called her that before, and the fact that it was _Solas_ had her floating over the moons. _He loved her_ , and there was no mistake in that.

But she didn’t say it back.

Of course she felt the same, but her mind warned her of repeating the phrase. _Remember all those times you were rejected? When they left you after you said that very word?_

She bit her tongue. Solas could leave her just as easily as the rest, and Ellana wasn’t willing to risk it by making herself so vulnerable. She leaned over and kissed him instead. Why chance her happiness? These last few months with him had been her happiest since moving to Haven. Her friends and even her brother had accepted Solas as a part of her life, and each day somehow felt better than the last.

The two didn’t even leave the house that day, but neither of them could complain. They had each other, and everything in the world felt just right. It was perfect, contented bliss that Ellana never wanted to end, although she knew good things were rare to last.

 

* * *

 

A crash in her kitchen jolted Ellana to a sitting position in her bed. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. “Mahanon?” she whispered into the darkness. Was he okay? Was her apartment getting robbed? Did Mahanon get kidnapped? Wouldn’t be the _worst_ thing to happen...

“Ellana,” Mahanon said, emerging from the next room with a sudden burst through her door. “I have to tell you something.”

He held his laptop open in his arms, casting an eerie glow beneath his chin and up his features. Mahanon sat himself on the edge of her bed, right near her pillow, and Ellana wasn’t sure if it was just the intense lighting, but he looked more serious than she had ever seen him in her life.

“I know where I’ve seen Solas before,” he said in a slow, deliberate manner. Mahanon met her confused gaze with knitted eyebrows and a frown. Why was he bringing this up in the middle of night? Did he just remember it during a dream or something?

“Ellana,” Mahanon continued, clasping a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t...” He sighed. “Just listen, okay?” His hand retreated back to his laptop and he spun it around to face her. “I’d seen his face from old TV shows.”

“Huh? What?” Ellana shielded her face from the harsh brightness of his laptop screen. Why couldn’t this wait until morning?

“Ellana, _look_.”

She carefully squinted at the harsh light and waited to adjust. A picture was opened in a browser window. It was an old photograph from many years ago of a man leaving a courtroom.

It was Solas, but with hair.

Ellana pulled the laptop closer to get a better look. How old was this? The colors were faded, and everyone in the photo were clothed in outdated styles...

“Ellana,” Mahanon said in a low voice like death, “Solas is Fen’Harel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've updated, and I'm pretty rusty with writing, heh. I've been so busy lately and still kind of have writer's block, but I figure I should power through, move this thing along, and finally finish the story, haha.
> 
> Soooooo BOOM!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Solas' POV.

_We need to talk_.

His whole body seemed to sag from Ellana’s text. It was nothing like her usual communication, which was always cheerful and filled with icons that took Solas longer than he would like to admit to decipher.

But this single sentence, unadorned by excessive punctuation and smiling nugs, seemed dire in comparison. _We need to talk_. Even Solas knew those words were never followed by anything positive, despite his quiet social life.

They arranged to meet after he closed the shop for the evening, and as the hours dragged on, Solas found himself lingering on the worst conclusions.

Something was wrong. It could be her family, her brother. _Her clan_. He swallowed a thick lump of unease.

Solas had never told her the full truth of his past.

But he had thought about it. Constantly. Words on the tip of his tongue each time he looked into her big, open eyes. She would understand. Accept him. _Forgive_.

The last word felt like a forbidden fruit. A sin to even consider. Because how could she forgive the man who ruined all her family?

But a small part of him believed she would. Each day spent with Ellana showed him her compassion, her empathy and willingness to learn. If anyone could forgive him, it would be her.

And he loved Ellana, and knew she cared for him as well. Or at least, he assumed.

She had yet to say it, after all.

Perhaps he had moved too quickly with their relationship. It had been so long since Solas had felt this happy, it was easy to be swept up in his emotions and forget the importance of patience.

Was this why her message sounded so somber? Due to his rushed affections? Solas was always too hasty to assume. He assumed her ignorant and misinformed upon first meeting, her people foolish and stubborn, and now he assumed that she loved him.

But he truly had no confirmation. Only the softness in her eyes when she gazed at him, her timid smile when he’d whisper words of adoration, the small furrow of her brow when she’d listen to his problems—

No, Solas didn’t need the verbal affirmation. Her presence told him enough. More than enough.

But when Solas saw Ellana standing there, pacing just outside the shop and looking more distraught than he had ever seen her, he panicked.

“What is it, vhenan?” The endearment slipped out before he could think better of it.

Her eyes met his for only a brief moment before glancing away towards the ground. Ellana was shaking, and only flinched when he tried to touch her.

“Let’s go to my place,” she said, staring at the ground and already beginning to cross the street.

Solas followed her, but thousands of worries flooded his mind as he watched her slumped form open the door to her building. Her family was in trouble, surely. Or her work.

But with every footfall, a single thought only seemed to ring louder. He was the reason for her distress. It had to be _him_.

“Please sit on the couch,” Ellana requested once they were inside her apartment. Her voice nearly stiff and detached. Solas did as she asked.

Ellana seated herself an arm’s length away from him. Just out of touch.

There was a long silence as Solas waited for her to speak. The heavy weight of apprehension hung in the air, a feeling he had never experienced with her before. He breathed slowly to calm himself.

“I—” Ellana stopped and took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut as if it pained her to speak.

“Ellana, what is it? How can I help?” Solas reached for her, but then thought better of it. He’d never seen her this distraught. She looked pale, nearly ill, with dark circles beneath her eyes as if she hadn’t slept in days.

“I heard something about you, Solas.” The spoken words seemed to strengthen some internal resolve, and Ellana caught his gaze then and held it for the first time, a spark of anger now present in her eyes. 

 _She knows_.

But how? Solas had been so careful, never letting it slip. Not even Dorian knew—

“Are you Fen’Harel?”

All the air escaped him when she said it. And suddenly, he felt very far away, like the whole world became muted of color and sound. This was it, this was the end. His worst fear realized.

He’d never heard her call that name before. Other Dalish would use it like a curse, but never from her. It was something he had always appreciated about Ellana.

How long had it been since that name was directed towards him? A decade, at least. Maybe two. And yet it didn’t sting any less to hear it. Although, coming from her...

It felt like a stab in the chest.

But Solas knew he deserved this. A fitting punishment for his mistake. If he had known how much damage his choices would cause, he would have never leaked that data, never organized those strikes, the boycotts, the lawsuits—

There was no point in wishing to change the past. He had wasted enough time in his life regretting.

“You are, aren’t you?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Solas answered, voice quiet. There was no point in denying it. Not when she was already slipping from him, his fragile happiness cracking into irreparable pieces...

“How is that possible?” The question seemed more to herself than to him. Ellana covered her face with her hands, and Solas realized it was to hide her tears. “How can _you_ be the one who slandered Evanuris?”

“It was a long time ago, Ellana.” He didn’t dare touch her, not when he knew how she now loathed him. As she had every right to.

“Please leave,” she cried into her palms. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Solas didn’t move right away as he should have. His eyes lingered on her, memorizing her features as he knew it would be the last time. This would be his final image of her. Hunched over, weeping, and betrayed.

Solas rose and walked away from her slowly, practically at a crawl, but he hoped with every step that she would ask him to stay. But of course she did not.

He felt like he was falling. Like the world was tumbling around him in indistinguishable flashes. Somehow he ended up back in his home, lying in his bed and staring at the Crystal Grace in his windowsill.

_I’ve lost her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must have rewritten this chapter ten times before deciding to do Solas POV. I know it's been a while, but I HOPE HOPE HOPE the next update will not take as long as this one did. I don't like to write the sad things so I was putting it off. I mean, I know it's short, but why draw out the pain? T__T
> 
> Anyway, thank you to anyone who is still sticking with this story. I would give you all donuts if I could. <3


End file.
